Hurt
by Zephyrus14
Summary: Set a few years before Prohibition. Meaningless sex was all it was ever meant to be, but things turned complicated. Lucas and Brooke are guided by their carnal desires, ignoring the morally ambiguous environment that surrounds them until it catches up.
1. Til We Meet Again

**This is experimental and depending on the feedback, I may either continue this or entirely scrap the project. I've always had a thing for the 1920s and the whole Prohibition setting. After watching some of Boardwalk Empire, my love for the time period was further reinforced. And it doesn't hurt to use my knowledge from AP US History to bring this story to the next level (Got a 5 on that btw; this story is my way of celebrating). So, here's my crazy idea. I'm setting the OTH gang in the time period and seeing how it goes. **

**The language should be relatively modern since I have no idea how to correctly incorporate the slang of the time. Also, the story takes place a few years before the Prohibition, but will soon jump to that time.**

**Lastly, the story is named after "Hurt" by Johnny Cash. I don't want to give away too much, but the lyrics foreshadow events to come.**

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><p>The young blond man counted his pay. "This is it?"<p>

The bulky man on the other side stared back. "What do you mean? There are plenty of men lining up for this job. If you don't like the pay, get lost."

He sighed and reluctantly accepted the modest amount. He didn't know how he would make it through this month. Sure, his brother always found his way to make his half, but he was also extremely unreliable.

He made his way through the snow covered streets of New York back home. As soon as he unlocked the door, he threw his hat on the coat rack and took off his shoes.

"Put those back on. It's Friday night. We're taking that paycheck of yours and blowing it on hard liquor."

He looked at the brunette man, deadpanned. "Fuck that, I got screwed over today. Elsner docked my pay. I can't believe he's pulling this kind of shit while the whole muckraking business is going on."

"You want me to bring some of my boys over? Teach him a good lesson?" Nathan lit up a cigarette and placed it between his lips. He offered one to Lucas, who gladly accepted.

Lucas inhaled and let the smoke sit for a while before puffing it out. "Don't even dare. If Elsner's in the hospital, I'm out of a job. And I've been meaning to talk to you about this gang you've been hanging out with. Why can't you make an honest living Nathan? It's much less dangerous and it's steady. I don't like the fact you're carrying a gun. Someday, it's going to be facing you and I don't want to be around to wonder if my brother's going to live."

Nathan scoffed. "Make an honest living and be like you? You can barely scratch two pennies together. I'm out making money, getting respect. Keep your fucking paycheck if that's what you're so worried about. Drinks are on me."

Lucas looked at him skeptically before giving in. "Alright, this week's been complete shit anyway."

Nathan laughed and threw an arm around his brother's shoulder. "Now that's more like it."

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><p>"Two shots of gin please."<p>

The bartender stopped polishing the glass in his hand and fulfilled the order.

"Thanks." Nathan set the money down, which the bartender quickly took. "Here's your shot. I'm going to take mine and talk to that girl over there." He pointed this shot glass towards the buxom blonde.

"That woman has way too many men around her to count. What makes you think she's going to give you the time of day?"

"The Scott charm, big brother. That's all I need." He left to join the woman and in the process, left Lucas alone at the bar.

Lucas quickly downed the glass and signaled for another.

"Can you find it in yourself to buy me a drink?"

Amused, Lucas turned to look at the woman next to him. "Why not? What'll it be?"

"A martini."

Lucas nodded to the bartender. After buying her the drink, he returned to his own and ignored her. He had no interest in entertaining a woman. Any other night, maybe, but not tonight. All he was good for was a quick drink and a good night's sleep.

Yet, as the brunette began sucking on his earlobe, flicking it ever so slightly, his resistance began to waver. She brought her lips close and whispered. "You have the courtesy to get me drunk, but not take advantage of me?"

He gulped and inhaled. "I wouldn't be taking advantage of you if you were willing and ready." He tried his best to maintain an air of confidence as his eyes met hers. The corners of his mouth turned to form the infamous Scott smirk.

She didn't back down either and inched closer. "True. And say I am willing and ready, what are you going to do about it?"

"I don't have much of an incentive. Granted you're very attractive, but I'd much rather sit down and enjoy my drink."

"Long days are meant to end with great nights. Everyone's a little lonely and we're just looking for a way to relieve it."

He contemplated her words for a moment. "The night could afford to be less lonely."

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><p>They went back to his. Nathan was long gone, which meant he wasn't going to be home anytime soon.<p>

He closed the door behind them. She didn't waste a second as her lips quickly attacked his.

"Hold on. I don't have-"he started while her kisses trailed his neck.

She pulled back, breathing heavily "My friend Margaret Sanger took care of it. Don't worry."

Clothes were strewn across his bedroom floor while he took her. There was nothing to the act. It was what it was: something that happened amidst the drunken haze the two found themselves in. When they awoke the next morning, there was an unspoken understanding to forget about the night's events. Names were held from each other. The only thing they shared was the satisfaction that still lingered and the chaste kiss she placed upon his lips.

Nathan walked into the apartment, clothes disheveled. He kept the customary cigarette and watched as the woman left with Lucas leaning against his door. He waited until the door was shut before putting the stick out. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Lucas bore a look of confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the woman you slept with. Do you have any idea who she is?"

The blond man shook his head slowly.

Nathan sighed and walked up to his brother, grabbing him by the shoulders. "That's Julian Baker's woman. He's a powerful businessman and once he gets wind of this, your body is going to be floating on the Hudson."

"Look, I had no idea who she was. We didn't even exchange names and she doesn't look the type to be announcing our tryst to the entire world. I can't do anything about it now, okay? I have to get to work." He turned to walk away.

"Work is the least of your worries. You have to go after that girl and shut her up."

Lucas rolled his eyes. "You're overreacting. If I don't get ready, my ass is going to be fired and I'll be out this month's rent."

"Listen, forget work. Go after that girl. If things don't work out, swing by Kelly's later and ask for me." Nathan left as soon as he came in, giving Lucas no time to respond.

The older brother paid no attention to the warnings. Nathan blew things out of proportion on a regular basis. Secondly, he could care less about this Julian Baker character. He could hold his own any day; part of the benefits of growing up poor, if there were any.

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><p>Before he knew it, Lucas was on his lunch break. He had a good 7 hours before he was off.<p>

Jake ran up to him. "Hey Scott."

"Jagielski," he nodded, "How's the wife and daughter?"

"Not so well. Peyton is dealing with her pregnancy and Jenny's been sick. My parents have been helping out as best as they can, but they're old, you know? I don't want to burden them. And that's actually what I need to talk to you about."

Lucas put down his food and wiped his hands on his pants. He gave his undivided attention to the man he had quickly became friends with. "What's wrong?"

"I think I'm going to take leave for a while just to make sure Jenny gets better. Elsner's not taking it well, but he's agreed to let me off if someone picks up my shift. You're the only one I know well enough to ask."

"I…" Lucas hesitated.

"Please? Half the pay is yours; I need someone to keep my place here."

"Fine, I'll do it. And the pay is all yours. You've got mouths to feed," Lucas finalized.

"No that's not fair. You're doing the work so you've got to take away some of it. How's a third sound?"

"A fifth is fine. I'll pick them up."

Jake pulled Lucas into a hug. "Thank you so much. You have no idea how much you've helped. I'll see you when I get back."

Lucas nodded as he watched the other retreat. "Great, now I have even more work," he thought to himself. He rubbed his back briefly before turning back to his lunch.

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><p>Lucas was a man of habit, so it wasn't much of a surprise when he placed his hat on his coat rack and took off his shoes.<p>

Nathan ran up to him as soon as he came home. "Are you alright? No men tailing your back?"

The blond cocked his eyebrow. "No, Nathan. I told you there was nothing to worry about." He walked to the open kitchen and opened the cabinet in search of a glass. On the way back, he grabbed the half-empty bottle of cheap scotch and poured the amber liquid. He pointed the bottle at his brother as if to offer him some. Nathan shook his head.

"Why are you so calm? You could have a bullet going through your head."

"Ease up. No one is putting a bullet through my head. You're making a big deal out of this."

"I'm not. I've had my fair share of women, but at least I'm not stupid enough to bed the ones that can get me killed."

Lucas laughed. "Okay, if this woman can get me killed, can I at least know her name when our night comes back to bite me in the ass?"

"This isn't a joke. I'd be careful if I were you," Nathan had already begun putting on his coat and hat.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm getting a drink."

"What's wrong with the scotch we have?"

"You see any women around?" Nathan opened the door.

Lucas laughed and shook his head. Some things never changed. He yelled after his brother. "Her name?"

In return, he got a muffled reply. "Brooke Davis."

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><p><strong>I don't know how necessary this us, but I feel the need to explain a few things or rather people.<strong>

**Margaret Sanger, whom Brooke mentions, was known for her role in the use of contraceptives and to a lesser extent, her involvement in eugenics. **

**Kelly is Paul Kelly, leader of the Five Points Gang. You'll see how it ties in later on.**

**I do realize I rated this an "M". I've done so because of the language and the violence, not because of explicit sexual nature. So, if you're expecting raunchy sex scenes, I'm sorry to disappoint. I don't want that to be the focus of the story, but rather the dark notes stemming from each character's moral ambiguity instead.**

**Like I said before, whether I continue this is ultimately decided by the response I get.  
><strong>


	2. Maple Leaf Rag

**The reception to this story wasn't quite what I would have liked. Maybe it's because I tend to push the envelope with my stories and it puts some people off. Or maybe it's because there might be a little history thrown in. In which case, I assure you, I'm not trying to teach history. Any history incorporated is purely for story enhancement purposes. The last thing I want to do is learn during my summer break and I'm sure it's the same way for those of you that are still attending. Anyway, I do appreciate the comments I got.**

**alysef- I'm the exact same way when it comes to history lol. And thanks for the great review =) **

**The same goes for AmethystLily89 and dianehermans, who consistently reviews my stories.**

**Short chapter, but I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless.  
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><p>Staring at the gravestone brought back unresolved feelings of sorrow. It made him feel like a failure.<p>

Keith Scott had died early on in the boys' lives. Neither had a good recollection of the man and instead, relied on their mother's stories. She spent most of her life making sure that her sons grew up with a proper head on their shoulders and never once forgot to remind them of how great a man their father was. She never found it in her heart to marry another man. It made it all the more harder to raise two boys, but she never complained. About six years back, Karen Scott was killed in the Triangle Shirtwaist fire, leaving Lucas and Nathan to fend for themselves.

When she died, Lucas was forced to assume the role of parent and older brother. It wasn't until then that he realized how hard it had been for his mother. He had no idea how to be a parent. Maybe that was where he failed. His main concern was keeping a roof over their heads and food on the table. Add that to the grief that consumed him following Karen's death and he was virtually hopeless. Nathan walked off on his own and now he was involved with a gang.

There wasn't much Lucas could have done. He could barely take care of himself, let alone another human being. The only thing he managed to do right was fake the physical for both his brother and himself. The Great War wasn't for them. If they ever saw combat, they would've been killed in a moment's notice.

He tried his hardest to maintain the ideals that his mother taught him, but it didn't stick with Nathan. It became too easy, too fast to lose that sort of baggage, especially when there was another whispering in your ear. The promises of women and riches were hard to resist. Lucas only avoided it because he spent all his time by the docks, working day and night. He was never given the opportunity. It instilled in him a hatred of things that came easy. What man wasn't looking for a free pass? The only problem was free passes never came free. And unfortunately, it was a mistake Nathan would have to make. The kid never listened to others.

Lucas made it a point to visit his mother every Sunday. He tried countless times to drag his brother along, but Nathan always made an excuse.

He placed the poorly tied bouquet on the ground and remained crouching.

"It's Sunday again, mom. I know our conversations carry themselves the same way, but I think it's time we start talking about something else. Life is hard, that certainly hasn't changed. If you're really up there and you haven't listened to anything else I've said, listen to this. Nathan… he's changed. He's been hanging around the wrong crowd and the way he walks around town is going to get him into trouble. I know that deep down he still remembers what you taught us, but he's thrown it aside. I don't know how to keep him from getting himself killed. The kid, he's grown now. I'm too busy taking extra shifts. I can't watch what he's doing at every turn. I need your help, mom." He sighed as he was received only by the cool air. He took off his gloves and brushed his fingers along the engravings on the stone.

Without a goodbye, he left.

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><p>As Lucas was walking back, he spotted a boy, blond hair, shivering in the cold while a bag of newspapers weighed him down. That was him a few years back. He remembered how the unforgiving cold touched upon his cheeks and the heavy load he carried all in the name of earning money.<p>

He had no schooling. Mother couldn't afford it and he had to help around the house. His mother did, however, teach him to read. In his early days, he got his hands on any reading material he could find. One of the benefits of being a newspaper boy was he got to read the new issues free.

He ran up to the little boy and handed him a nickel. The boy handed him a paper and tipped his hat in gratitude.

Lucas quickly made his way home.

Nathan had just gotten up, as evidenced by his eyes. He was stuffing himself with the leftover loaf of bread and a glass of scotch. "Where you been?"

"Around." He threw the paper on the table.

The brunette turned it around and started flipping through it. "You don't have money to spend on drinks, but you have money to spend on the fucking paper?"

Lucas walked to the sink and began washing his hands. "You're reading it, are you not? Pour me a glass."

Nathan walked into the kitchen and took a glass, in which he poured the scotch. He set it on the table just as his brother made his way out.

"You doing anything tonight?" Lucas asked as he took a sip. His hands kept around the glass as he went in search of food.

"Kelly's throwing a party at the club on the east side. You want to come?"

"Can't. Jake's out because his kid is sick. I promised I'd pick up his shifts so I've got an early day. The farthest I can go is O'Halloran's downstairs. There's bound to be some broad I can take home tonight," he raided the kitchen for food, "Oh come on Nathan, you eat like a fucking pig. You're covering groceries for the next week."

"No way. Lou hates me. As soon as I walk into the store, he's ready with a shotgun."

"He's traditional. You nearly gave him a heart attack, thinking you could charm his daughter. I would pull a shotgun on you."

"Scotts always have women falling at their knees. It's a curse."

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><p>Lucas found himself down at O'Halloran's. There was something comforting about the pub even though there must have been a dozen like it littered on the block.<p>

Owen Morello was on shift on Sundays. He was about the Scotts' age and was their favorite bartender as well. Occasionally, he would throw a free drink their way. That occasionally came today.

"Scott." Owen nodded.

"Morello." Lucas copied. "How's business?"

"Slow to start, but it's picking up. The broads are easy on the eyes and it doesn't hurt to be the one behind the bar. There's always a few that'll flirt to get a free drink."

Lucas chuckled, "Can't hurt."

He agreed. "Nope. Speaking of, there's one waiting for you upstairs."

"Oh yea? What's she look like?"

"Lips are sealed. She left me a good tip."

"Alright, at least get me a martini for the road."

"That I can do."

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><p>Her back was faced towards him, giving him the element of surprise. He supported himself using the hand placed on the wooden chair and leant forward. His pointer and middle finger trapped the stem of the martini glass as he set it down in front of her.<p>

He whispered into her ear, "Say in the odd chance I didn't come here. What would you have done?"

"It wouldn't be a problem." She took the glass from him and puckered her lips against it as she slowly tipped it back. The single move drove him crazy.

"I'm not going to ask why you're here since I have a pretty good idea. What I'm going to do is tell you how it is."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Really? **You're** going to tell me how it is?"

He nodded. "We had a great night and that's all it's ever going to be. I don't mess with another man's woman, regardless of whether I know the man. I'm going to save you the humiliation and let you know that we can't happen again."

Clearly, she was pulling out all the stops to get what she wanted. She brought the olive from the glass to her mouth in slow motion, a move meant to be seductive in every way.

"I guess you found out about Julian Baker." He nodded. "So you're telling me that we can't have another night or _nights_ of pure bliss because you're _afraid_ that he'll find out and kill you?"

Lucas chuckled. "No, no, no. I'm not afraid. I meant it when I said I don't mess around with taken women."

"The only reason you're so calm is you know that our night has remained under wraps and Baker hasn't a clue. And that means that I've been discrete about the matter. You can either continue having your way with me and no one knows. **Or** we stop this right now and he'll definitely know."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "Let me get this straight. You're using me for sex and in return, you'll keep the secret. Sounds like you hold all the cards. That's not something that sits well with me."

"You see the men in this room?" Lucas looked around and one thing resounded: all eyes were on the brunette sitting next to him. "I want you to carefully consider what you're rejecting."

"I want you to carefully considering what you're requesting. Do you really want to slum it with a lad like me?"

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><p>Their arrangement carried itself 3 weeks and counting. They both revealed little facts about themselves here and there, but for the most part, they could hardly claim to know each other. The first week or so, Nathan refused to speak to him. Lucas never bothered to explain that it was Brooke's idea. Nathan would have called his bluff. No one ever forced Lucas to do something he didn't want to do.<p>

When he was 11, Jerry McCulloch tried to stick him with a robbery over on 5th while McCulloch took the spoils. Lucas had something else in mind when he pounded the boy black and blue and practically threw him at the front door of the store.

When he was 16, James Hinds and a couple of Klan members tried to lynch a kid his age. It didn't mattered he was outnumbered. He drove those racist bastards away with a cut over his eye and a bleeding lip to show for it. That kid he saved was Antwon "Skills" Taylor, one of his best friends to this day. Lucas visited him at the club from time to time.

In all honesty, Brooke Davis wasn't hard to be around. Even Nathan warmed up to her after she put him in his place. She hung around their home an awful lot these days. Makes one wonder where Baker's been.

Since Jenny got better, Jake came back to work. With the extra time, Lucas was able to do… anything, really. It was nice to have a consistent lay and he didn't have to worry about getting up early in the morning. Jake's fifth was considerably helpful this month. Things were going well, too well even.

"Where's your girl?"

"She's not my girl and she's in my room, sleeping." Lucas took a seat at the table.

"Well, I've got to head out. Early start today."

"Bullshit. You're telling me the mob starts early?"

Nathan shrugged. "Ask Kelly. He's meeting some big shot from Jersey. Enoch Johnson, I think his name was? I'll see you tonight." He closed the door behind him.

"Why do you Scott brothers wake up so early?" Brooke groaned. She wrapped her arms over his shoulders and kissed him full on the lips.

Lucas kept a hand on her right arm. "You want coffee? Nathan made a pot."

"I should get going. It's daylight, people are going to notice I'm gone."

"You've been gone every other night. Baker has yet to notice."

"My, is someone jealous?" she teased.

He scoffed. "Not jealous. Never jealous."

She shrugged. "I think he's starting to notice. You should start to be a little more careful, babe." Her hands cupped his cheeks while she leant in for a farewell kiss.

"My, is **the **Brooke Davis actually concerned about my well-being?"

"Not concerned. Never concerned," she said, mocking his earlier words, "I mean it. Be careful."

It was not until she was long gone that he gave his reply. He smirked. "Never."

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><p><strong>I had most of this chapter typed up by the time I uploaded the first chapter, so I thought it fair to upload the second part. I cannot stress this enough: Go trigger happy on the review button, the story alert button, the author alert button, whatever. It'll put a smile on my face. See?<strong> **=)**


	3. An Unseen Enemy

**Perhaps against better judgement, I've decided to continue with this story because I feel so strongly about it. Uncharacteristically, I'm going to end the author's note here and leave you guys to read and review the story.**

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><p>Sometimes he would stare into her eyes and despite the fact their words have been few and far between, he sensed the loneliness she mentioned to him on that fateful night. It's as if her eyes were beckoning him to save her from it all, but they're not lovers, not even acquaintances. They have a rather volatile relationship. He expected to hold it together, for his heart strings not to pull when she would be uncommonly quiet. That is, more quiet than they are with each other on a regular basis.<p>

Her visits shortened and lessened. Word spread that Baker was back for a while, something Brooke had yet to confirm. He'd like to say he didn't care. Part of him didn't. Part of him wanted her there, whether it was for the company or the sex. Then there was the part of him that felt sorry for Baker. After all, what man would like it if his woman was fucking another man?

How the broken pieces made the man.

His eyes narrowed as he inhaled the cigarette smoke into his mouth. Several cigarette butts were drenched in the little scotch left in the glasses on either side of the bed.

Her head rested on his shoulder while her hand was on his chest. His larger, calloused hand covered it.

"What I wouldn't give to hear Billy Murray sing right now," he said out of the blue.

"_Honey moon, keep a-shinin' in June_," she sang.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "What was that?"

"'By the Light of the Silvery Moon'," she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

His throaty chuckle caused his chest to vibrate slightly, something she felt from the tip of her fingers. "That was most definitely not 'By the Light of the Silvery Moon'"

She backed her head a few inches so she could stare him down. "You don't think I can sing?"

He shook his head. "I hate to break it to you, but you're a terrible singer, darling."

"Am not," she pouted.

"You are. It's a good thing I don't like you for your singing ability."

"So what? You like me for my body?"

"I mean yea. I'm sure you like me for the same reason," he said, hoping it was the right answer.

"So I'm just some broad you can fuck. Is that it?" With each word, she took to poking him rather harshly on the chest.

He sighed. Things certainly took a quick turn. To avoid getting abused any further, he immediately got out of the bed, taking the top blanket to cover himself. "No, that's not it. You're overreacting."

"If that's all you're looking for, why don't you go to a cathouse?"

"Okay… you need to calm down."

She paid no attention to him as she grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be the glass of scotch, and threw it in his direction. He quickly ducked, narrowly avoiding the projectile. It shattered upon impact and its contents ran along the white wall of his bedroom.

"You're fucking crazy," he yelled. "Stop it." He struggled to keep the blanket around his waist since he was preoccupied with blocking the various objects directed at his face. Finally annoyed with the sudden turn of events, he let the blanket drop, not caring if he was exposed in all his glory. It was like a goddamn battlefield, trying to get to the other side. Once he was close enough, he grabbed her wrists roughly and pinned her against the wall.

"Are you going to hit me now?" she challenged.

His eyes were red with anger, but he would never hit a woman. His mother raised him better than that. "I told you to stop it." After the two stared each other down for God knows how long, their lips met in a passionate embrace, the air of anger still lurking underneath. It was unclear who initiated it, but it was an all too familiar occurrence. At this point, it could very well be considered a routine. Though, one could hardly consider it a routine; it was far too dissimilar in the pure adrenaline it induced and the passion it evoked.

The struggle between the two translated itself into their kiss as Brooke would bite his lip just enough to cause both pleasure and pain simultaneously and Lucas would seek to overpower her every time she did so. It was a reflection of their relationship as a whole.

The loud rapping of the front door forced the two apart. However, neither saw fit to open it as they tried to catch their breaths.

Finally, Lucas released her and threw on his robe before retreating to open the door. He caught the strawberry blonde just as she was turning to leave.

"Hi, is there something I could help you with?" he asked.

"Something of the sort. Is Nathan here by any chance?"

"I'm afraid he's gone at the moment, but I could pass a message on to him if that's what you need."

"No, it's fine. I actually dropped by to return something he left," she said. She produced a brass pocket watch from the depths of her coat pocket and placed it in Lucas' opened hand.

"Son of a bitch," he swore a little too loudly. It was their father's pocket watch. Nathan was never going to here the end of this one.

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry, I wasn't talking about you. Nathan's going to be dead once he gets home. Anyway, thanks…"

She seemed almost startled when Lucas delved into the topic of her name. She hesitated. "Uhh, just tell him someone found it. It'd be best if he didn't know."

Lucas cast his suspicions aside although there was much to be suspicious of. "Thanks again. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she mirrored.

He stuck the watch in one of the drawers by the door and walked toward his room. His eyes were treated to the sight of a still unclothed Brooke and their coming act was enough to make him forget everything, if only for a while.

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><p>Nathan was the complete opposite of Lucas. In fact, they were so different that no one would have guessed they were brothers had they not been informed ahead of time. Lucas was a blond, Nathan was a brunette. Lucas was level-headed, Nathan was hot-headed. Lucas was the epitome of stable; Nathan was the epitome of unstable.<p>

The two entered the house in completely different ways. Nathan was rather loud, preferring to announce his presence to the entire world upon entering. Keys would clash and garments were thrown haphazardly.

Lucas barely got out a "Hey" before he threw the pocket watch at his brother, who narrowly caught it.

Staring at the object in his hand, Nathan gave a slight smile.

The blond narrowed his eyebrows and got up slowly. He pointed an accusing finger at the younger man. "A woman dropped that off today. How stupid are you Nathan? That's all we have left of Dad and you just carelessly leave it lying around?"

"Not exactly carelessly leaving it lying around. More like strategically misplacing it."

"Okay? How does one 'strategically misplace' the last shred of memory of his dead father?"

"I purposely left it so that I would get the watch back. And correct me if I'm wrong, we got the watch back, didn't we?"

"That's beside the point, but yes. Continue."

"And answer me this, was the woman that dropped our father's pocket watch off about yay high," he gestured with his hand, "had strawberry blond hair, and was devastatingly attractive?"

Lucas looked around aimlessly as if searching for the answer on the hardwood floors beneath his feet and shrugged. "I guess so."

"Then you have nothing to worry about. She's the type that would never take anything that didn't belong to her. Only trouble is why did you answer the fucking door if you didn't even know her? You should have let me answer it!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't aware that I was only _allowed_ to open the door when I knew the person on the other side. It's not like I can see either. You're a fucking dumbass, you know that? Next time you pull a stunt like that, you'll wish you hadn't." He sighed before changing the subject. "Now, what's the deal with this broad?"

Nathan lit a cigarette and displayed the case to Lucas, who shook his head. He shrugged and placed it in his back pocket. He placed his arm over Lucas' shoulder and guided him slowly to the table, his hands animating his words. "This woman is completely immune to my charms. Come on, look at me, I'm Nathan Scott. Half the broads in this city find me irresistible. But this woman, she won't even give me a second glance."

"That's how we know she's too good for you."

"Oh shut up. I planted the watch so I could see her again, maybe get a chance at her when she has to look at me again. Too bad Kelly called me in."

"Let me get this straight, if Kelly's been calling you in all this time and the only time you mention it is when you're at home, how the hell did you meet her?" he paused before realizing what it meant, "Bastard, you've been running off to see her. That shit about starting early was a lie. Seems like an awful lot of work for you. You usually move right on when a woman doesn't give you the time of day. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've got it bad for her."

Nathan immediately retracted his arms and held his hands out in defense. "Whoa. Hold it there. I don't 'have it bad' for this broad. She's the type of girl you sleep with and tell your buddies about. You know, untouchable? Everyone knows she does what she does and goes home. Doesn't speak a single word to anyone unless it's for the job or to her lady friends. She acts respectable and all, but she can't be, not when she works where she works," he quickly clarified.

Lucas snorted. "I thought you treated women with more respect, considering how we grew up. I can't tell you how to act, but I'm sure you know what's right. I'm going back to sleep, talk to me when you get your senses back." He stormed back into his room, leaving a dazed Nathan behind.

* * *

><p>The last thing he remembered was going back to bed, with his arms around Brooke. She would turn around and inaudibly murmur in that charming way of hers whenever the slightest motion interrupted her sleep.<p>

They both knew that this ordeal was nothing more than sex. That's why he would let her stay the night; because he knew she would be gone by morning. If not, a little coffee would do the trick. However, he noticed that she was staying a little longer in the morning or coming a little earlier in the night. It was always one or the other because she had to return to a man she didn't even seem to like. At least that was the impression she gave when she chose to continually show up at his home. She never once mentioned whether she loved the man, how they even got together, and what state they were in now, not that it wasn't obvious.

She mentioned, in passing, that Julian cheated on her, but kept the women far from his mansion or workplace. She also mentioned, in passing, that she cheated on him, but unlike Julian, had brought a few of her lovers back for the pure thrill of getting caught. If there was one thing Lucas took for her stories, which she had carefully chosen to tell because of the little amount it revealed to him, it was that she was uncontrollable. And in the end, he knew that an attempt at stopping her from doing what she wanted was futile. Still, he could tell that Julian maintained a certain control over her, something to him, was completely unfathomable.

They never tried to get to know each other. Their breaks in between sex were merely words to fill a silence that lovers would find themselves comfortable in, but they could not. Their stories never revealed anything and were told in an out-of-order sequence that resembled that scratching of a record that would cause the music to repeat the same second again and again and didn't sound quite right.

Today was one of those days where she stayed a little longer in the morning. It was dangerous for both him and her. After all, it gave people more time to notice.

Yet in the midst of it all, danger was the last thing they were afraid of. He couldn't say he minded her staying. She had an uncanny way of satisfying him, be it sexually or mentally. Most men brought home a wife that they expected to be fully obedient. They hated when their wives mouthed off.

Lucas hated the quiet types. There was no challenge and any person unwilling to be challenged was a weak one. Not that his opinion held much weight in the real world, but he supported the likes of Alice Paul and Carrie Chapman Catt, the former more so. A woman should be able to vote and he thought they had good ideas. His mother was learned and level-headed, the latter of which he thought men sometimes lacked. The traits he admired in women were embodied in one woman: Brooke Davis. It made it all the more difficult to understand why they were what they were.

"I hate to have to kick you out, but I'm kicking you out." He took a step towards her, his arms swinging gently at his sides.

"Shame," she smiled. She took a step forward.

His next few steps closed the distance between them. He wrapped his arms around her waist while hers were around his neck. He smirked. "I know. One for the road?"

Not bothering to give him a yes or a no, she grinned and gave him a real answer, one in the form of a kiss, a dance of the lips if you will.

When air became a necessity, they let go. She turned around and left, but not before Lucas gave her a gentle pat on her perfectly formed derriere and a giggle was elicited from the mouth of the brunette vixen.

* * *

><p>The younger Scott waited outside a back door in the cold. He rubbed his hands together in the hopes of getting some warmth. What that couldn't do was easily solved by the cigarette in his mouth.<p>

He apprehended the woman of the hour just as she arrived for work.

"Good morning."

She gave him but a glance. "Good morning." She tried to make her way to the door, but her path was blocked.

"I know you don't care much for me, 'specially given the cocky son of a bitch I am. I've never had it this hard with a woman and before you say anything, it's not about the chase. I think sometimes and I know that's not it. Truth is I'm rough around the edges. I'm not exactly sophisticated and I come on a little strong. I've been going about this in the wrong way and I've finally got it."

She crossed her arms, urging him to continue.

"I know exactly what you want."

"Quite presumptuous of you, if I do say so myself."

He chuckled. "Maybe. You want a man that can support you, give you what you want. You don't want to be entirely tied down, just enough to have someone to come home to. Although you work at the club, you're a pretty traditional woman. You want to get married, but not for wealth. You want a man who can love you and respect you as an equal. How am I doing so far?"

"I'm impressed." She wasn't doing much to conceal her grin.

"And I'm letting you know right now that I don't know the first thing about any of those things. I'm honest, that's something you can take away from all this. I'm also stubborn as hell so you know I won't give up when things get tough. And as I'm listing these things out, this strangely resembles a job description. For once, I'm not going to act like myself. I'm putting all my cards on the table so you won't get any surprises later on and you won't be able to give me shit about it either. So what d'you say? Scrap the first impressions and work on a better one?"

She nodded.

Smiling excitedly, he extended an eager hand out. "Hi, I'm Nathan Scott."

She grasped it firmly and gave a shake. "Hi, I'm Haley James."

* * *

><p>The one time things were different was when he opened the door that night to reveal a broken woman, one whose face was marred by wet teardrops. It wasn't about sex that night as he held her and comforted her to sleep. He didn't ask why or who. No, that would have revealed too much. Neither of them would allow that to happen. The one time when the silence was comfortable was this time.<p>

Sometimes he would stare into her eyes and wish he didn't see what he saw.

* * *

><p><strong>This is the first time in a long time I've felt completely satisfied with a chapter and I hope you enjoyed it as well. And some of you might attack me with questions about the last part; all I'm going to say is that it will be explained. Until next time.<br>**


	4. Some of These Days

The banker took a seat on the leather chair adjacent to the white-haired man, setting down a glass of scotch next to him.

"Where's your secretary? Isn't he supposed to take care of things like this?"

"He asked for the week off. I had my butler call to tell him he's fired. I'm still looking for a secretary."

The old man stared his glass appreciatively. "There's one that works at Ford's. I've been told he's extremely efficient."

The banker gulped down the liquid. "I'll look into it."

"Mighty fine scotch. It's a shame the Women's Christian Temperance Union is gaining ground. Several states have already banned alcohol."

The banker smirked. "It's never going to hit New York. If you ask me, the entire effort is pointless. We toast to a closed deal. We toast to life's beginnings and life's ends. Bottom line, Americans love drinking. No one is going to enforce the bans because it's simply impossible. This isn't about the drink anymore, it's more than that. It's like the Know-Nothing Party has reemerged. These nativists are targeting the Irish and the Germans. And it makes it worse that we're stuck in the Great War. There are posters on every bloody wall, telling us how to live our lives for the sake of the war effort. These ignorant bastards blame everything on the Huns. You know, I had to send Kelly's gang over to stop a crowd from picketing our Congressman."

"Business is business. Politicians serve their purpose, but I don't know why you insist on sticking your neck out for that man." The older man took another sip.

The banker got out of his seat and paced around the room. "I put so much money into that idiot because he pushes through the reforms I want. My business prospers because of it. Then I put more money into Tammany Hall so that the idiot gets reelected. Come Election Day, Kelly's gang rounds all the Irish and Germans and makes them vote. It isn't too hard because some of the money I put into Tammany Hall goes into helping these immigrants get settled. My father's done it and now I'm doing it."

"We used to do it in other ways. Sometimes it gets too messy with these politician types."

"As evidenced by the large withdrawal I made last week. It's not the same anymore. Jay Gould did it the old way and became the most hated man in the world. I want to be the next J.P. Morgan."

"And rightly so. That brings me to a matter I've been meaning to speak to you about. You've been dating my daughter for a considerable amount of time. Two years is it?"

The banker nodded in response. "Two years next month."

"I would trust you with my company which goes to say that I'd trust you even more when it comes to my daughter."

He yawned out of boredom. "Your point?"

The man crossed his legs and straightened up in an air of condescension. "There's only really one thing left to consider and everyone's been wondering about it. When are you going to ask my daughter to marry you? You know you already have my blessing."

"With all due respect Richard, I do plan on marrying your daughter. It would be the greatest union New York has seen in ages, the Baker and Davis families would control most of the nation's wealth. That being said, what's the rush? This union was written before my time and it's not going to change, I assure you. Once I expand my hold over various industries, I'll ask her to marry me."

"Very well." He got up, buttoning the middle button of his suit and placing a hat on his head. "I have business matters I have to attend to at the moment. I'm glad that everything's been clarified. You might want to keep a tighter hold on her. The lower ranks have been talking about the distance between you two lately and I hate when the lower ranks talk."

* * *

><p>Nathan strolled into the warehouse in a rather giddy fashion. The guys would give him hell for it, no doubt.<p>

"Hey, lover boy! Kelly wants to see you in his office."

"Shut it Torrio," he half-warned. The two mock punched in each other's directions as they passed each other. They stared back at each other in laughter as they walked off in their respective directions.

The brunette shut the door behind him once he reached Kelly's office. "I believe you wanted to see me?"

Kelly remained in his seat. "Yea." He produced a wad of bills, taking out two of them and placing it on his desk. He slid it forward. "Here's your cut. Ashcroft appreciates what we did for him. The crowd could have done him in for the next election."

"Thanks boss. Is there anything else?"

"Yea, there's a shipment coming in by the docks in an hour. I want you to head down there and oversee it yourself. Just when I thought Eastman's gang was gone, there's been some bother. Our earlier shipments were stolen or something. I want this one to go smoothly or I'm going to have your neck." He walked over to a wooden box and slid the cover down halfway. He took out two perfectly hand-rolled cigars, one of which he tossed to Nathan. "Cops are on alert so don't raise any fucking attention got it?"

Nathan pulled out his pocket knife and cut off the end, lighting the end with a wooden match before putting the cigar in his mouth. He flicked his wrists to put out the fire. "I'll make sure it's done."

* * *

><p>He threw the large crate over his shoulder to be carried to storage. That's when Nathan showed up with a couple of shady thugs.<p>

Lucas' expression conveyed a clear "Really?" He dropped it on the ground and approached his brother.

Elsner directed the flashlight in his direction and opened his mouth to shout, but Lucas stopped him with a finger.

The blond placed both hands on his waists and sighed. "What are you doing here?"

Nathan chuckled and rubbed his finger under his nose. "Relax, alright? I'm here on official business."

Lucas nodded his head once and pursed his lips. "For the mob," he said deadpanned, looking at some distant object.

"I can't believe you're giving me crap about this. Look, you can stand there and lecture me on this, I waste time and Kelly has my ass at the end of this or you can direct me to the place where this shipment is coming in, we go back home and have a good laugh over a glass of the finest cheap scotch."

He rolled his eyes, but gave in. "I'm going to hell." He snatched the paper from Nathan's hand and looked at it. "Walk straight. It's going to dock on the third space to the left. And for Pete's sake, don't go around announcing this to the whole world and lay down. Elsner's sniffing around all the time and he'll report any suspicious activity. Your best bet is picking it up after he leaves."

Nathan shook his head. "I have to pick it up."

"Then pick it up. Just don't unpack until Elsner's gone."

The brunette looked between the docking area and his brother. "Is it going to be long?"

"The workers usually pack up and leave the ditch in about twenty, Elsner maybe another fifteen to twenty after that."

At that moment, Lucas wanted nothing more than to wipe the smirk off his brother's face. He hated the fact he helped his brother yet again. And it boiled down to the same thing every time. It wasn't as if Nathan hung out with the right crowd. Then Lucas could refuse to help him and wouldn't have to live with that tumor on his conscience. No, his brother was part of the local mob, so one screw up usually meant that you could find your family member in the Hudson or some equally dirty body of water. Things played out quite differently. In Ty Cobb's game, it was three strikes. With the mob, the first was the only. After helping his brother, he knew he had only dig a deeper hole for him and indirectly, he was helping the mob. Now that was something that definitely weighed on his conscience. To summarize, he did the work for his brother and he would get fucked in the end. Decisions, decisions.

Nathan patted Lucas on the back. "Thanks. Drinks on me. One at O'Halloran's."

"Yea, yea, you little fucker. Don't get yourself killed, I still need your rent for this month." Lucas walked backward toward the crate while holding up a finger at his brother as he said this.

"Don't worry. I wouldn't want you to miss me too much," Nathan shouted after him.

* * *

><p>"Delighted to finally see you. You've been coming in such odd hours of the day lately."<p>

Brooke stopped in her tracks. "Mother," she said in fake affection, "Delighted to see you too."

"I'd hate to insinuate anything, but need I remind you that you have a boyfriend, one that you will be married to in the near future."

She smiled. "I am well-aware mother, so what is it exactly that you are insinuating?"

Her act of oblivion failed to fool her mother. "Your indiscretions. I was young once. Men control every part of life, so we act out before we're tied down. I have no problem with what you're doing right now, but I suggest you cut the strings to whatever toy you've found for the month. The last thing we want is a leech." She took a dainty sip from her martini glass. "Your father has taken notice to your absence, but he doesn't want to make any conclusions. He had to pay Julian a visit to make sure word hadn't spread."

"Thank you for the warning, but I'm afraid your concern is misplaced. I would pay more attention to Father's indiscretions." She gave a parting smile before practically tripping over herself on her way to her room. She quickly locked it and ran for the telephone.

"Operator?"

"_Yes?"_

"220 Ludlow Apartment 5B"

"_You're through."_

Brooke didn't wait a second to start. "Hey Lucas."

"Brooke? Why are you calling me?"

She could almost sense him placing an arm on his waist.

"We need to take a break for awhile."

He sighed. "Let me guess, it's you, not me?" He wasn't ready to lose her. They did, after all, have a good thing going. If she cut ties now, he'd have to drag himself down to the bar, pick out a girl, and strike up a meaningless conversation in an attempt at being flirtatious. Right now, Brooke was the only girl he needed.

"No, no, no, nothing like that. We're raising too much attention and unless we lay low, they're going to catch us."

After a few moments of contemplation, "Alright, but I might get a little lonely and vulnerable. I might do something stupid like find a new girl."

"I highly doubt it. You could try, but we both know you'd have to break a poor girl's heart because she can't do what I can."

He laughed. "Arrogance is a bad color on you."

"I wear it well," she opposed, "Anyway, I just wanted to let you know."

"Yea, I got it.

* * *

><p>She almost fell down trying to catch the collapsing man who had knocked on her door.<p>

"Oh my god, what happened?"

He could barely choke out the words. "Something went wrong."

She laid him down carefully on the couch before reaching for her coat. He stopped her.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"I need to get you to a hospital."

"No. I can't go to a hospital. Bring my brother, he'll know what to do. Trust me. I **can't** go to a hospital," he vehemently protested.

She hesitated, looking back and forth between the wounded man and the door. "Fine, but we can't waste time. I'm going to bandage you here."

A look of suspicion, and almost horror, struck his face. "I don't know. It's best if my brother does it."

"Trust me on this alright? We'll call your brother, but we need to help you before anything else."

She was asking him to trust her. Not on a larger scale, no, he wasn't ready to do that yet. Just for now, just while he got himself up and ready to go again. And in all honesty, it was a small and fair thing to give, so he nodded.

She gave him a weak smile before she headed to the phone. "220 Ludlow Apartment 5B"

* * *

><p>"I came as fast as I could," the older man said as he struggled to catch his breath, "Fucking hell. I thought I told you not to get yourself killed." He rushed to his brother's side.<p>

"Is that really what we should be talking about right now? I'm fine, thanks to Haley. Some cocksucker decided to ambush our shipment. There must have been twenty guys there. We lost a few men, but I managed to keep the shipment. The others ran back to tell Kelly and I'm here."

"Great, I don't care about your story. Why the hell are you still working for him? Quit while you're ahead. Then I'd still have a brother and Haley would still have a boyfriend."

"She's not-"

"He's not-" they argued.

"I'll let you in on a secret Haley. Nathan here usually doesn't hang onto a girl more than he needs to and right now, he's hanging onto you because he _wants_ to, not because he _needs_ to. And that's saying something."

Nathan lightly pushed his shoulder and gave him a look, that in every way, meant, "What the hell man?" Coupled with the red tones on both Nathan and Haley's cheeks, Lucas knew he had done his job as a big brother.

Lucas got up. "So you're all patched up?"

"Yep."

"And you're not going to whine about the pain when I have to carry your fat ass home?"

"Actually, I was hoping that maybe I could stay at Haley's?"

Lucas looked to the petite blonde for confirmation.

Surely enough, she nodded. "It's my day off tomorrow. I wouldn't mind the company."

"Alright, tonight only. After tomorrow, I'll be back to retrieve you from this hapless girl. Don't give her more trouble than she needs."

"Wouldn't dream of it." His smile only made Lucas more suspicious.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" he asked Haley.

""Yea, sure." The two walked out of the apartment and closed the door just enough so that Nathan wouldn't hear them.

"I don't know how much you know about Nathan, but-"

"I know enough to know where he got that gun shot. Sorry, continue"

"So I don't have to explain that part. I have a bad feeling about all of this. If anyone tries to break in or anything, Nathan isn't going to be of any use, not with that wound. In case that happens, call me as soon as you can. I don't want any of you getting hurt."

She nodded as she took the information in.

"He's putting on an act, but I can tell he's in pain. I picked this up. Fill it around this line and give it to him," he ordered and handed her the glass bottle and syringe.

She looked at him skeptically.

"Don't worry. If you can't handle it, he's done it before. It should put him to sleep for a little while so you can get some rest."

"Yea. Yea, that's fine."

They both walked back in, though only one of them would be staying. "Where's the shipment?"

Nathan moved up. "What are you talking about?"

"The shipment. Where is it?"

"Uhh, we unloaded it to the third storage site on the right from the loading dock."

Lucas ran his hands through his hair. "That's Smith's storage box."

"So? It was empty. Clearly he wasn't using it. What's the big deal?"

"We have to clear it out before Elsner finds out."

* * *

><p>Lucas was scared out of his mind right now, but like any good poker player, he kept a straight face. A gun was concealed in the back of his pants.<p>

"Who you lookin' for, punk?" asked the man sitting on the crate.

"Kelly."

The man stared at him as if he didn't hear what Lucas had said. After a few moments, he finally signaled over a few men who walked towards Lucas.

It wasn't until one of them started touching him that he realized what was happening. "Whoa. What the hell?"

One of them lifted up the back of his coat to reveal the gun. He tossed it towards the man on the crate. He inspected it, opening the chamber before spitting out the toothpick in his mouth.

"Move him in."

And there he was. Paul Kelly. He was every bit intimidating as they said he was. He took notice of the men who held Lucas' arms behind his back.

"You got a lot of guts, coming in here with a gun."

If he didn't save his own ass, he was going to be a dead man. "I-"

"Save it. If you didn't show up here with one, I'd be offended. So what is it you're looking for? A job? A quick loan?"

"Actually none of those things. It's about Nathan."

"Good. So is someone finally going to explain to me what the fuck happened to my shipment?" The men tossed him on a table stained with blood, while holding Lucas' limbs down.

"Wait, that's not possible."

"Don't tell me what is or what isn't possible, _kid_," he lowered his register and pulled out a pocketknife, "I'm not a very patient man. You're going to give me a quick rundown. If you decide to withhold any information, a finger goes off. One for each piece of missing information."

"No, I wasn't done yet. Nathan told me a couple of men were running back to tell you about the shipment."

"If those men showed up like Nate said, we wouldn't be having this problem." He neared his knife toward Lucas' hand.

Lucas struggled to move his hand away, but the men holding him down were much stronger. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Just calm down. I'm his brother, okay? I don't know anything past what he told me. I do know where the shipment is. It's exactly where he left it."

"And where is that?"

"Shipping lot 487B. It's for another one of the clients, but he keeps it empty. It's there, trust me."

"Alright. What happened?"

His breaths were getting deeper and sweat was dripping down his face. "I don't know."

Without warning, the knife came down, just between two of his fingers. Lucas shut his eyes in anticipation, but it never came. "Last chance. What happened down there?"

"Look, I really don't know. Nathan said that they got ambushed. My brother got shot during the damn thing. Do you really think he would lie about it after he took a bullet for you?"

Kelly switched the knife back in place and stuffed it inside his jacket. He patted Lucas' face roughly. "Alright kid. I'm going to trust you on this one, but you're staying here until I get someone to make sure your story checks out. If anything goes wrong, it'll be more than just fingers that I'm cutting."

The blond exhaled in relief.

"We could use a guy like you. You know your way around the docks, which makes it a hell of a lot easier considering the things we pick up. And you've got street smarts. Let me tell you something, there's plenty of guys signing up to join my gang, but most of them are just muscle. I need people that can help me run this thing."

As scared as he was, he couldn't help but laugh at Kelly, in his head of course. He could care less about what Kelly wanted. The man was a two-bit son of a bitch. "I just want to live a quiet life."

"You're one of those guys, huh?"

Lucas tilted his head up, raising an eyebrow in the process.

"The world's not black and white, you know? I'm fine with being the bad guy when it calls for me being one. But if there's one thing I hate, it's being the bad guy when I'm not. It's a lot grayer than you think."

"Is that the speech you gave my brother before he invested in getting himself killed for you?"

Kelly laughed. "No. It's the speech I'm giving you."

* * *

><p><strong>I know there isn't a lot of Brucas in this, but I took the opportunity to finally introduce Julian and move the plot lines along. Hopefully, it allowed you guys to see how everyone is connected and should someway foreshadow future events (hint hint). Until next time.<strong>


	5. Regretful Blues

**A number of you noticed that Julian was connected to Kelly's gang, which is absolutely correct. Most of you also connected that to Lucas, who may or may not be joining Kelly's gang in the future. For that I applaud you.**

**However, there is one person that was missed in all of this. I mentioned in the last chapter, subtly, that someone (not Lucas) is already connected to Julian. I don't want to outright give you guys the answer and you're welcome to either look over it (again) or not look over it (again). I will give you this: this piece of information will give you insight on a side arc of the story. I'm going to stop myself before I say too much.**

* * *

><p>"The kid checks out. I told a couple of guys to stay, just in case those thugs return," Luciano said upon arrival.<p>

Kelly lit his cigar and blew out the glowing splint. He nodded his head toward Lucas. Immediately, two men cut the ropes tied around Lucas' wrists and ankles. "Think about what I said kid. There's always a spot open for you."

Lucas rubbed the red marks on his wrists and scoffed. "I'll have to pass. Don't you want some person that would be willing to risk his life? I'm definitely not that kind of person."

He laughed. "No. I have enough kiss-asses. I don't need another one. Take a look at my accountant. He works for me, but he never has to see a person point a gun at him. You could be one of my main guys, order people around, but you'd never have to see that kind of action."

"Okay, okay. I see what you're trying to do, but my final answer is no. I mean, what's the catch? I don't exactly know how the mob works, but I'm pretty sure that no matter where you work, you have to climb the ranks. Now, I'm not your son, in fact, I'm not your anything. So what's special about me? Why do I get a head start?"

Kelly shook two fingers toward the door. His men began filing out and it wasn't until the door was closed that he continued. "A lot of people think things through before they do anything. Business sense, I think they call it? I'm a guy that runs things by his gut. Don't get me wrong, I'm not stupid enough to make every decision like that. When I see a face, I know exactly what type of person he or she's going to be and whether I can trust them."

"That from just a face?"

He nodded. "I'm not asking you to understand my ways. I'm asking you to take a job."

Lucas chuckled. "I stand by my answer. While this has been a very interesting conversation, I have to get to a job that I have no intention of quitting."

Kelly tucked a few bills in Lucas' front pocket. "This is just the beginning."

* * *

><p>He threw the money at the brunette man. "That's yours."<p>

"Sweet," he remarked, splitting the pile in half, "Here's your cut."

He laughed at Nathan. "No. I'm not touching that. That's blood money, I don't want blood money."

Nathan raised an eyebrow at his brother. "You know, the mob doesn't operate like that."

"Right… and remind me why you got that gun shot? Oh, it's called recreational shooting, right? Just aim a little left of where you want to hit and you've got no problem. Well guess what, it doesn't operate like that!"

Haley came into the living room with a pot of hot coffee and two cups. "Hope I'm not interrupting."

Nathan's face lit up at the save. Now he wouldn't have to answer his brother. "Not at all. Coffee smells great."

"Ahh, there's none for you," she said as she poured the caffeinated goodness in the cups. She handed one to Lucas and sipped her own.

"What?" exclaimed Nathan, "Why not?"

"You were a pain to deal with and she doesn't want you to have any. If anyone should be getting coffee, it's us," Lucas answered for her. He turned to her for confirmation. "Correct me if I'm wrong."

She nodded. "That… about covers it, yea."

He threw his hands in the air. "Oh come on. I'm sick-"

Lucas raised an eyebrow at him.

"Ok, ok. Injured, what's the difference? Shouldn't the _injured_ get special treatment?"

The older man rested the cup on the table. "Really? If I recall the last time I got injured carrying crates all day, you told me to suck it up and be a man when I told you to get something from Lou's."

"You know that man scares me. Why do you keep forcing me to go there? And it's a completely different context."

The blonde scoffed. "In what way?"

"In the way that my request is quite reasonable and should not be denied and yours was quite unreasonable and therefore was rightfully denied."

Lucas smiled at his brother. "Okay. Then I rightfully deny your request and you're on water."

Nathan scoffed and looked at Haley, who raised her hands. She wasn't going to touch the issue. "All this for a cup of coffee guys?"

"Yep. I have to get you back home and considering your boss held me all night, I'm not in the mood for anything to go wrong. If I'm late, I will have your neck." He turned to look at Haley. "Where's your bathroom?" She pointed.

"Geez, someone needs to get the stick out of his ass," Nathan muttered under his breath.

Lucas whipped around and pointed a finger at his brother. "Your neck."

Haley laughed as Lucas walked away.

Nathan narrowed his eyes at her. "This isn't funny."

"It kind of is. You're not even scared about Lucas' threats and I have no doubt in my mind that you have no reason to be. I'm a little jealous of your relationship. I wish I had your relationship."

He struggled to put a pillow behind his back but eventually succeeded. "No siblings?"

She shook her head. "Nope."

"No sisters?" he continued.

"Not that I know of."

"No annoying brothers named Lucas?" he asked.

She chuckled. "That would be a no."

"Well, you can have mine?" he said unsurely.

The comment garnered giggles from the strawberry blonde. "Thanks, but I'll pass."

"There's always my brother's girlfriend."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "Your brother has a girlfriend?"

"Not really. Kind of. They have a sex arrangement going on, but they're getting too close for that. And they fight… a lot. Nonetheless, I think my brother's got it bad for this girl. She could be your sister."

The two stopped their conversation when they heard a click of the door.

"You ready to go?"

Haley interjected. "I could take the day off. My boss owes me a few favors and I'm sure Skills can hold his own."

"You work with Skills?" asked Lucas, whose interest was quickly captured.

She nodded. "So, Nathan can stay here and you'll be free of a pesky brother for another day."

"Hey!" The two blondes laughed at Nathan's outburst.

When the laughter died down, Lucas looked at the door for a moment. "You sure?"

"Yep."

"She said yes. Now go, I don't want to see your face any longer," Nathan groaned.

Lucas chuckled and opened the door. "Thanks."

"No problem."

* * *

><p>She was just about to leave the room when she was interrupted.<p>

"Good morning." The banker unfolded his hands, uncrossed his legs, and stood up.

She narrowed her eyes before approaching cautiously. "Julian."

"Now, is that any way to greet your boyfriend?" he wrapped his arms around her waist.

The corners of her mouth broke to form a mega-watt smile. She brought her lips to his for but a second before pulling back and looking at him. "You're back."

He nodded. "I've been back and I'm awfully sorry that I haven't been able to see you sooner." He bent down to steal another kiss, which she obliged.

"It's not a problem." But it was, not that she would tell him. It was one of the problems that came with being a Davis. Years of emotional detachment were bound to have its effect. She had gotten quite familiar with pretending, for others and for herself.

"It is and I'm here to fix it." She cocked an eyebrow while he reached back to pick up a red velvet box. He opened it and brought it to her plane of view. The sight of it was enough to make anyone gasp, but not Brooke Davis. Diamonds were a common sight, one she no longer cared for. "Just a little something to make up for the lost time."

There it was again. Another gift and it was playing itself out. There was only so much he could give before it got old; and it was; it was somewhat of a reminder of her life: flashing before her eyes, but as lasting in pain as could be.

Her mind digressed to the thought of the other man in her life, the gorgeous blond that had invaded her thoughts the past few weeks. Their relationship, if it could even be considered one, was rocky, at best. It was as unpredictable as the winds on the high seas. They could hardly claim to know each other and there was always the giant elephant in the room: it was just sex, no emotions, nothing. But he would find ways to allow his sweetness to permeate. Even she couldn't deny that they both cared for each other. Perhaps not in the way two lovers would care for each other, but they cared.

Then there was Julian. He was as stable as the aqueducts of Rome. He was certain and everything always went the way he wanted them to. The thing that got to her was it never once felt routine. He had the favor of her parents and as they so graciously reminded her, their marriage was planned before her time. Now it was her time and she had never felt safer than when she was in his arms. The world was falling apart at the seams and he stood there, unaffected and oblivious to the tragedies that fell at his feet. Her heart fluttered at the pure confidence one man could exude.

Then some say it's not possible to love more than just one.

* * *

><p>Through all the daunting transgressions of yesterweek, the only thing that kept him going was the thought of pay day. Sure, it sounded materialistic. One can't exactly say one finds solace in money without sounding as such, but there wasn't much else to look forward to. Elsner had been relatively tame, which meant he had a good chance of having his entire salary rather than having it docked by the bastard. It was always a good week when Elsner wasn't chewing heads off.<p>

Nathan had successfully turned one day to a week. Haley let him hang around the house while she was gone and Lucas hated to admit it, but he hated the silence left by his brother.

He tapped his feet while waiting on line. His impatience was getting the best of him. Truth be told, he hated working at the docks. The only reason why he didn't complain was that no one ever did what they wanted. His mother said it best: do what you're good at even if you hate it, if you love what you do, all the better. It was a cruel rule of life. There were only a fortunate few who could claim to love their jobs. He wanted to get his salary, slip back home, and enjoy a nice drink. Maybe head down to O'Halloran's if he was feeling adventurous.

The days were long and the nights boring without the effervescent brunette, but he wasn't one to dwell. It gave him time to do what he wanted.

Right now, he was exactly where he didn't want to be. His coat was soaking through and his eight-panel cap did nothing to stop the incoming flood on his head. Leave it to Elsner to take the nonsensical approach. He looked in front and behind at the other aggravated workers while Elsner was seated under a small tent seemingly miles away. He counted the bills slowly, taunting Lucas with every count and recount. Elsner was the biggest cheapskate he knew. He developed a method of distributing salaries in which he counted the workers' pay three times to make sure he hadn't given too much. Being the scumbag he was, he tried every so often to cheat money by shaving off a dollar or so. Lucas fell victim to it a couple of times when he started out, but finally caught on to the sneaky bastard.

So much for making it home quickly. By the time he reached the tent, the water had made its way through to the last layer of his clothes.

Elsner took to counting the damn bills as if he had all the time in the world. Lucas' self-restraint was wearing thin and he was extremely close to pounding the man's face in. Finally, he finished and scribbled something on his ledger.

Lucas all but grabbed his salary out of Elsner's hand before counting it himself. Satisfied that he got full pay, he turned to walk away.

"Wait a second."

The blond rolled his eyes. "What now?" he thought as he turned back once more.

"The kid down by the docks last week, you know him?"

Lucas whistled and ran his fingers over his lips. "I don't know. Does anyone really know anyone?"

"Don't be a smartass. He was looking for something. All I want to know is if there was anything fishy going on."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Not particularly. He was just asking for directions. I don't know him boss." It couldn't be stressed enough: Elsner was a scumbag. Lucas didn't like Elsner nor Elsner him. He wouldn't waste any time turning Nathan in if Lucas so much as mentioned that he was his brother. It was a surefire way to stop Nathan from working for the mob, but he wasn't sick enough to betray his own brother like that.

Elsner narrowed his eyes at Lucas and begrudgingly accepted his response after consideration. Seriously, the man was asking to be punched. "Okay, but if anything suspicious is going on, tell me before I have to turn you in for aiding the city's scum."

Lucas didn't bother to entertain Elsner's threat with a response. Instead, he walked away with a scoff. The only scum he was aiding was Elsner and it sure as hell wasn't by choice.

Today was one of those days where everything did not go accordingly to plan. All that was left to do was stop by Lou's, grab a bottle of whisky, and drink himself to a stupor. If he could accomplish that much, he would be happy for the day.

As he walked through the rain-drenched streets of New York, he gradually slowed down. He just stopped and took a moment to see what was happening around him, what was _really _happening around him.

Street vendors were rushing their carts to find cover. People were running in haste with umbrellas over their heads while cars sped by. His eyes directed themselves at a family across the street. Although his vision was blocked at times from the mad dash to find shelter, they were as clear as crystal. The patriarch had his arm tossed over his wife's shoulder and a hand holding an umbrella over their heads. She was toting a precious girl in her arms, all smiles. Seeing the child laugh at her father's antics was just out of this world.

It made him reevaluate everything in his life if only for just a second. If he had a mirror, he would've taken a good look at himself, but he didn't need one to see how broken he was. After all, it wasn't likely that after the deaths of both his parents that he would emerge unscathed.

Life was so much easier when he was a little boy. His biggest dilemma was choosing whether to play or eat and life moved much slower. What he wouldn't give to return to those days. All that truly mattered then was happiness and how he would go day to day trying to find it. Now, it was as if complications incessantly threw themselves his way. Looking at that family reminded him of the abandoned wishes. As he dug into his pocket, he felt the wet bills and thought to himself sadly that _that_ was what his life had reduced down to. There may have been truer words spoken before and during his time and there may be truer words spoken after his time, but no words were truer than these: money makes the world goes round.

* * *

><p>He turned the key a few times before opening the door. He peeled his jacket off and hung it up. It didn't take long for it to form a puddle on his floor. He took off his shoes and poured out the water that had gathered inside. His suspenders fell to his side with one quick swoop.<p>

As soon as he walked into his room, his eyes closed in on the invader. He pointed at her. "What are you doing here?"

"Nathan gave me a key. That girl he's with"

He crossed his arms and gave a single nod. "Haley."

"Yea, her. She's pretty," she commented, "I don't get why Nathan and…"

"Haley," he offered.

"Right, I don't get why Nathan and Haley aren't together."

He put his hands in his pocket and began walking toward his dresser. "Oh, they are. They just refuse to acknowledge it or at least, they don't acknowledge it in front of others." He pulled out a fresh shirt and pants from his modest variety. Just by looking at her, he was able to ask a question without ever having to say a single word.

The great thing about it was that she heard, or rather saw, it loud and clear, so to speak. She gave a nod before he stripped down and replaced his wet clothes with his dry ones. He sat on his bed as he continued the conversation.

"So back to my original question, what are you doing here? Isn't Julian back in town?"

"Yes he is, but wouldn't you rather focus on the fact that I'm here."

His lips broke out into a smile. "I think that's a perfectly good fact to focus on, but I'm afraid I'll have to pass."

She creased her brows questioningly.

He opened his bedside drawer and removed the false bottom as he spoke. "You know when you came to me not so long ago, effectively breaking every one of our rules?"

"I… have no idea what you're talking about," she trotted daintily toward the bed, "And if I remember what happened on this night that never happened, we agreed to not talk about it."

"Right, and if I remember what happened on this night that never happened, you said I could use it as an excuse to let loose when I needed to." He flipped the black journal to a page with barely legible handwriting.

"Yea, but I thought you were going to use it for sex." She tried to divert his attention by slowly trailing her finger down his chest toward the strap of his pants, but he was adamant. Couldn't blame her for trying.

He removed her hand, albeit reluctantly. "That's hardly what I would call cashing in. It would benefit the both of us, but I'm an awfully selfish guy."

She pouted. "You sure?"

He nodded. "Yes." The sincerity in his eyes caused her to stop and switch to an uncharacteristically (because it was much easier to act otherwise) serious demeanor. "I was walking home and I saw something that got me thinking."

"Oh no, this isn't-"

She was stopped by his deep chuckle. "Never. I know the rules and it's nothing like that. As I was saying, I just stopped and stared. It made me think, what if I never get where I want to be and no one understands my being after I'm gone. What if I drop back into the immense design of things? "

"You have a great brother and if you can't find some poor girl to help you procreate, I'm sure your _being_" she air quoted "will live on through his and who's that girl again?"

He chuckled. "Haley."

"Yea, her. Your _being_," she air quoted again; clearly once wasn't enough, "will live on through their children. In all seriousness, you're a great guy. You help the people around you, like Jake and Skills, who I have yet to meet by the way. If you were to die right this second, I would remember you as would the other people in your life. You've made enough of an impact that your memory will carry itself onto them, their children, and their grandchildren if you're lucky."

She allowed him a few moments to digest her words. He handed her the journal and pointed to a small passage. "I've never showed this to anyone, but I've felt the sudden urge to."

"It's not one of those undying declarations of love, is it? Because we set strict boundaries and that would be more than cashing in," she rambled. A relationship with him was far from the most terrible thing in the world, but they had agreed to certain terms, terms which neither could nor would see fit to disregard. Things were complicated as was, further complications would have thrown them in for a loop.

"No. God, no. It's a small excerpt from something I've been writing, nothing to do with our… relationship. Just read it."

Satisfied with his answer, she fixated her eyes on the ink marks on the rough paper and began.

_The bitter facts of life were knocking on his front door. They were as unforgiving as the biting cold of the Canadian winters. As these truths circled around him, he could only think of one thing: whether he would continue on his current path and pretend he was alive or throw it away and decide to live. It had suddenly presented itself as a choice but the relationship he had with such dubious decisions was a tempestuous one. No matter, if he chose either one, he would still find himself exactly where he didn't want to find himself: with the same bitter facts still knocking on his front door, circling around him once more. And he knew they would never prove themselves to be quite as forgiving the second time around._

* * *

><p><strong>I'm obviously not a writer, but I hope I did that last part justice. I put pen to paper and after a couple of scrapped words and ten minutes, this excerpt was born. On a matter contrary to my words, I borrowed a few words from Willa Cather's "Paul's Case". That would be the "drop back into the immense design of things" bit. And thanks for the reviews I got last chapter. I'm happy that this story is finally picking up.<strong>

**Good news first, I have the next chapter written for the most part and I'm starting on the one after that. Bad news, even though I have those chapters written, I don't know when I'm going to be updating since I have to get working on those college essays of mine.**

**I'm not one to beg, but review... like a lot. Then I'll probably update sooner; that's a promise.  
><strong>

**This may be disappointing to hear for some, but I've decided to finish this story before I update my others. However, I am actively writing for those other stories during this time. All that's left is my signing out, so until next time.**


	6. Did I Remember?

**Finally. I wish I could update more frequently, but my life is pretty hectic right now. I'm busy trying to get into college so I won't make any promises I can't keep. Hopefully, this chapter will last you guys until my unreliable self uploads the next one.**

* * *

><p>After his disclosure about the thoughts that ran wild in his mind, she seemed a bit surprised, a good surprise though, as she had reassured him. However, it did nothing to relieve her growing concerns about their relationship. Whenever either of them decided to open a window into each other's lives, they did so with great care. Each story told was given great thought. They were meant to be told in a choppy manner so as to avoid any real understanding of each other.<p>

It was safe to say that all that had gone to hell the moment they started talking. The choppy mess they had intended for it to be turned to be pieces of a giant puzzle, something they had not intended.

The surprise was that she had even let Lucas stay long enough to hear her divulge her secrets. She was with Julian because she loved him. She slept with other men because waiting for Julian was a lonely deed.

She wasn't stupid, far from it. Two or three had gotten attached and she cut those strings faster than she could say infidelity. It was a shame really, what with her having to break a couple of hearts.

His arm was tossed over her shoulder as his free hand was tied to hers. He kissed the back of her hand. "Why are you with me?"

She laughed nervously. "I thought we weren't going to talk about that."

"I know, but it's a harmless question."

She gave him a pointed look.

He shrugged. "What? It is. It's just… perplexing that a girl that could have the whole world chooses to have me. It does wonders for a man's ego."

"I wouldn't go around announcing that I use words like 'perplexing'."

"I'm a writer, sue me."

She backed away a few inches and creased her eyebrows at him. "Really? I say that the little piece of writing you allowed me to see was good and now you consider yourself a writer?"

"Hey, coming from the girl that has everything right?"

She sighed. "Don't."

"Don't what?" His eyes dodged from side to side while his shoulders shrugged and his hand gestured in the form of a question.

"I'm not the girl that has everything. If I did, I wouldn't be wishing for more. And I know I shouldn't be complaining because I'm more fortunate than most."

"You're really something you know that?"

She smiled. "Yea? And how's that?"

"Well, I don't see any of the rich confessing to realizing the state of privilege they're in. Most of them just see more and want more. Take Carnegie for example, he gave to the arts and left his workers piss poor. He said he was investing more by giving to the arts because it would last for future generations to see. The fact of the matter was his workers couldn't even afford to put food on the table, much less take time to visit operas and libraries. His workers barely scraped by because he thought giving them higher salaries would encourage them to drink."

"You're going to hate me for arguing for the other team, but you have to admit Carnegie's worries were well warranted. That extra money could have been exchanging for some good booze."

"Are you always going to antagonize me?"

She shrugged.

He grabbed the top cover to cover the lower part of his body as he stood up. He leaned against his dresser. "I've noticed you have this uncanny ability to direct a conversation exactly where you want it."

"I know, it's a talent and I take pride in being able to hide this talent. You calling me out on it is a total violation of the rules."

He scoffed. "How? I was merely observing."

She crossed her arms over her knees, the covers still concealing her natural form. "We agreed we wouldn't make any attempt at knowing each other. You were able to point out something no one else has."

"So, I have… great powers of observation. I mean, we've only had so many conversations. I was bound to pick it up sometime."

"You'd be surprised at how many people haven't and we've exchanged more words than you and I."

He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, trying to get words out. Then it came, almost as an epiphany. "You're doing it again."

"Damn it. That really bruises my confidence in my ability."

"It's what happens when you have two people fighting to dominate the other, but none willing to play subordinate. And before we digress again, my question?"

Her eyes quickly diverted to any place where the blond man wasn't situated. "What question is that?" she asked as if she didn't know.

"Why are you with me?"

She sighed in surrender. "I don't know. Other than the creepy spot on observations about my quirks and personality, you're the only one that hasn't shown signs of committing."

"Well, you did make it very clear that there was no commitment allowed. That and we have an amazing arrangement going on. I've never met a woman that has been able to keep to these rules."

"Which is surprising considering I make rules specifically so I can break them." She didn't know whether to be frustrated or happy. Lucas was doing everything right, but she couldn't help but want more. Even if he gave just a little sign of more than just physical attraction, she would have been content. He did on one occasion, but she ruled it out because she had shown up unexpectedly. Oh, and there was the book reading had it not been the completely platonic nature of the moment.

"Don't worry. I'm the exact same way. This arrangement though, it's never going to change right?" she shook her head and he nodded at her answer. The room stayed silent for a few seconds before he returned to bed, "So is that the only reason? Not the great sex?"

She chuckled and leaned in ever so slowly before planting a kiss on his lips. "Oh, it's definitely because of the great sex."

They could spend all night debating it, but it was much easier to let Lucas prove it.

* * *

><p>"So no sex?"<p>

She laughed and patted his chest. "I told you. No sex before marriage."

"Will you marry me then?" he joked.

"And that's my cue to go to work." She tossed a robe on before leaving his sight to dress.

He got up as well and tried his best to dress as quickly as he could, throwing a shirt and pants on before pulling up his suspenders. "You know what? I think I'm going to head out with you. Kelly's been wondering about me and I don't think it's a good idea to keep that man waiting."

She reappeared, fully dressed for work and as stunning as ever. "It's been a month, you're in no condition to return to that line of work."

He slipped his arms through the sleeves of his jacket, grimacing as the pain shot through his body. "Exactly, it's been a month. If I don't get back, I'm as good as dead."

She thought about it before relenting. "Make Kelly know that if anything happens to my man, I'm going to kill him."

"My, Haley James, the most innocent woman I have ever met, threatening to kill Paul Kelly, undoubtedly one of the most dangerous men I've ever met?"

She shook her head and broke out into a smile. "You're such an idiot."

"Yea, but I'm your idiot." He planted a kiss on her lips that lasted for but a few seconds, yet rocked them to their core. They both pulled away with wide grins on their faces. "Come on. I think we've kept the world waiting long enough."

* * *

><p>There were a couple of firm pats on Nathan's back, greeting him. Luciano went the extra mile and accidentally grazed his wound with a soft punch, but Nathan made it out okay.<p>

Much to the surprise of the young man, even Kelly was happy to have him back. True, he was a dangerous man in his own right. However, what Nathan felt for Kelly was respect. In retrospect, Kelly was somewhat of a Machiavellian leader, the better to be feared than loved type. No one was saying that Kelly wasn't the type to be feared, only a fool would, but Kelly carried himself in a way that was meant to be fair. It was also a hazing ritual of sorts. It determined who would stand under pressure and who would crack. The good ones always stood up to him, within reason of course.

"How's your wound, kid?"

"This? It's only a minor wound. That's why I'm back."

"You don't know how many of you I've seen in my day, but I commend you. How 'bout you take it easy for the next month or so before you handle the rough jobs?"

Nathan sucked in his breath and exhaled slowly. "I'm fine boss. I can handle whatever you give me."

"I'm sure you can, that's why I'm putting you under Luciano. He's heading to some rich folk's mansion on 5th."

"Who?"

"My accountant handles all that. Luciano knows all the details."

If one thought Paul Kelly was the most mysterious man in the world, one clearly didn't know about his accountant. Sure, Kelly was the face of the entire operation, but anyone who stayed around Kelly long enough was made well-aware of the ever elusive accountant. The accountant was an extremely able person based on Kelly's reliance. Anyone dumb enough to mess around with Kelly's gang had to be smart enough to target the accountant. Take away the beating heart of the giant and it was bound to fall.

* * *

><p>Nathan headed out with the group, all under Luciano as Kelly had mentioned. Shortly after they arrived, Luciano headed off to speak with said rich folk and told the rest to stay behind until he got orders. And so they waited in the atrium, admiring the priceless works of art as much as they could, which wasn't much. They had taken to conversation, but Torrio would almost immediately bark at them once a full on volume contest ensued.<p>

"Hey Nathan, how you holdin' up?" said of the guys.

"I'm hurt, but I'm not down and out for the count. Now stop treating me like I'm fucking glass."

The man rolled his eyes and checked his watch. "What's takin' Luciano so damn long?" He glanced at the stairs, hoping that their leader would show. Unfortunately he didn't, which meant the man took to his own devices in an effort to end the plague he knew as boredom. He whipped out a tarnished Colt, popped open the chamber and popped it back in place. "How 'bout a game of Russian roulette, huh?"

Before Nathan could respond, Torrio interrupted. "You guys want to play Russian roulette, you take it out of here. I don't want your fucking brains painted over these walls."

Nathan looked back at the man with a fake expression of disappointment on his face. He was no stranger to these crazy types. There was at least one of them in every gang, always wanting to prove their worth. He turned to the main hallway when he spotted a careless brunette he more familiarly knew as the one who currently had his brother under wraps.

She, having spotted him as well, walked towards the group of men and eyed them confusingly. "Nathan, what are you doing here?"

"I'm kind of on a job right now. What are you doing here?"

Luciano's laughter bounced off the walls of the spacious atrium. All eyes turned to him and in that moment, Nathan wished more than anything that he hadn't showed up at Kelly's warehouse today. He should have kept the world waiting a little longer.

* * *

><p>Lucas picked up his keys as he prepared to head out. He reached for the knob, but his brother beat him to it.<p>

"Nathan, you're early."

He stayed silent, looking as if he had just seen a ghost.

"You alright?" asked a concerned Lucas.

"Yea, yea, I'm fine. Where are you going?" Nathan brushed off the subject.

"The club. It's an even month, did you forget?"

"No. Can I come with?"

Lucas stared at him before shaking his head, dismissing the oddity of the situation. "Yea. I mean, you've always said it was boring, but sure."

The walk there was relatively quiet. Nathan was keeping to himself, which was extremely weird. Lucas, despite being his brother, wasn't one to talk about emotions so he just let it be. The only acknowledgement they gave each other was a quick nod whenever one stepped out of the path.

"Go grab a table. I'm going to catch up with Skills."

Nathan grumbled inaudibly. Lucas was forced to accept it as a yes before heading to the back. He gave the door two heavy raps when someone opened it. He exited, leaving a crack open.

The two men gave each other a man hug. "What have you b'n doing? A month goes by and you don't come visit your boy Skills?"

"Work," he mumbled through the cigarette he was lighting. "You still bringin' the house down every night?" He pointed the cigarette case in his friends direction.

Without a word, he slid the stick out and waited until Lucas brought a light to its end. "It's what I'm best at. A few of the girls can't resist."

Lucas chuckled. "Lucky bastard, who've you been shagging?"

Skills exhaled to form a perfect smoke stream and squinted. "One girl, actually. Came up to me as if she owned the place. I've never seen a broad so forward in my life. Sure, she ain't the smartest one of the bunch, but she makes me happy. I'm telling you Luke, she could be the one."

"Is that right?" Skills nodded as Lucas patted him on the back, "I thought we were going to conquer the world, Nathan, you, and me. You're already tied down and Nathan isn't too far."

"Nathan was the loudest one of us all. He practically screamed out to the entire world that he would never commit himself to one woman."

The blond shrugged. "Yea, well, things have changed."

"What about you? Any great women behind Lucas Scott?"

"Maybe. I don't know," he waved it off.

"What do you mean? You either do or you don't."

"It's complicated." That was putting it mildly. They agreed they would never slap a name onto whatever arrangement they had, but if he had to label it, it was nothing more than casual sex. At least, that's what he told himself. She never gave any signs nor did he. Neither was willing to give way to the other and if push came to shove, he wasn't sure who would back down first. They would sooner die than break their own rules. "Here's the thing. She's completely the type of woman I could marry, but not the type I would bring to see my mother. I always thought that when I met a woman like her, I would hold on and pursue a relationship, but I haven't and I'm not sure I want to. It's just sex and we're happy with the place we're in."

"Nothing's complicated unless you allow it to be," Skills tapped his cigarette allowing the ash to fall to the floor. "People have a habit of playing games because they're afraid."

He scoffed. "Of what? I play games to keep things exciting."

Skills shook his head and wagged his finger at that statement. "Mmmm, I don't think so. I call bullshit. People are afraid of rejection, shifting into an unfamiliar situation, whatever. You don't know how refreshing it was when my girl came up to me the way she did."

"Not all of us are as lucky as you. This broad, what's she like?"

A smile made its way onto the man's face as his mind was blatantly invaded by thoughts of the woman. "Blonde hair, killer green eyes, smile as bright as day." The daydreaming session took a sharp turn when the grin on his face disappeared and he looked at the ground. "No one's lucky in this world, Luke. I hate to sound cynical, but we're knee deep in shit. We all have problems, just not the same ones."

"You're telling me." He shook his head. "So that's the problem? She's white?"

"Yea. This day and age, you know there ain't a lot of white girls lining up to be with a black man. Even if there were, we'd get killed. That _Birth of a Nation_ picture did a number on the white folks. It made us black men look like savages that wanted nothin' more than to rape white women. It doesn't help a whole lot when your own president shows it in his own house. Bevin's parents are poor, but they would kill her and me if they ever found out. It makes it that much harder to see each other and it certainly makes me love her a hell of a lot more."

"Whatever happens, I have your back. If any fucker wants to cause a problem, Nathan and I both will see to it that they don't get within an inch of you two."

"Maybe you are right. I have to be lucky to have both Scott brothers on my side." He dug into his pocket for his watch, which he flipped open. He threw it back it in his pocket before giving Lucas a quick pat on his arm. "I have to head in. Let Junk know if you want anything to drink, it's on me."

Lucas flicked the stub onto the floor and snubbed it with the soles of his feet. "Alright, I'll see you inside."

* * *

><p>The club was packed, equal parts Haley fans and Skills fans.<p>

Skills was a real showman. As if his name didn't prove enough about him, the man's fingers produced wonders on the piano. The way his fingertips pranced around on the keys and gave birth to the most melodious sounds was something to be witnessed at least once before dying. Hell, it was enough to rival the masters of the Classical period.

Then there was Haley's voice, God, that voice. From the moment she opened her mouth to sing a tune until the moment she held the last note, one was caught in a state of utter excitement. A little tapping along with the beat was to be expected.

Although the people were plenty, it was easy to navigate through the crowds. Once he took his seat at the table Nathan had fortunately been able to acquire, he found an old fashioned waiting for him. He lifted the glass up an inch to slide the napkin out and took a swig.

"You see your girlfriend yet?"

Nathan nodded halfheartedly and drank.

"What's up with you? You're never this quiet."

He shrugged. "Nothing. Just been thinking is all."

Lucas looked at his brother worriedly. "Whatever you're thinking about must have done a number on you. I'd like to know what shut you up, not because we all appreciate it when Nathan Scott doesn't open his mouth, but because I'm your brother."

The young brunette's eyes revealed he was at a crossroads of sorts, the undeniable streak of vacillation written on his face. "I don't know how to tell you this and you don't have to listen to me, hell, you never do. This is just my input on the matter."

"Will you get to the point?" Lucas said impatiently.

"I think you should stop seeing Brooke."

Lucas let out a laugh of disbelief. "We're back to this again? Come on Nathan, what did she do this time? I thought you two were friends now."

"Don't ask me why, okay? I just," he sucked in a breath, "I just can't explain it to you. She's a great girl, yes, and I'm not going to badmouth her. I would barely be able to scrap enough things together to complain about her. But none of that is enough to overshadow this irking feeling I have. You have to stop seeing her Luke. For your own sake."

"I get that you're looking out for me. I really do, but I can't just stop seeing her without a valid reason. I don't know if you've noticed, but lately I've felt a little lighter on my feet and a little happier to boot. I'm the last person to assume anything and I'm more of an observer anyway. And the only thing I've observed is that she entered my life. This sex arrangement is just what it is: sex. We talk about things I can't talk to anyone else about. It's refreshing for me to get an objective opinion on things and she gives that to me. I'm only asking that you tolerate our relationship."

Nathan downed the drink and set the glass on the table. He stood up to leave. "I'm not asking you to understand why I'm telling you to do this. I'm asking you to accept and just do."

"Nathan. NATHAN!" he yelled after his brother, to no avail.

The brunette walked away in the same manner he spoke, with an unsettling calmness that translated to an exponentially increasing dread in the pit of Lucas' stomach.


	7. Shakespeare's Kingdom

**Thanks to my procrastinating, I finally got this chapter down. I'm so sorry for not updating sooner and I got a couple of reviews in the interim reminding me to, so thanks for that. I'm super busy with college apps and my full senior year schedule (I'm regretting it), so I don't know when I will be able to update again. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this chapter.**

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><p>Lucas never had much of a taste of the good things in life and he could very easily say he had no desire to. The good things fade, turn into something lesser. Now, the argument could be made with a bottle of aged wine, but give it two hundred years to sit and all that would be left was a grape juice that had more value in the toilet than enriching the palette.<p>

Besides, it was much more exciting, more poetic to dwell on the darker things. Those that pulled on the heartstrings and gave a realistic recollection, slightly readjusted by the highs and lows of a couple shots of absinthe, held its weight in the world and hit closer to home. Truth was writing was about the experience, not about the decorations. The kid on Ludlow battling his inner demons in a familiar world was far more interesting than the unwarranted, frivolous frustrations of the rich. A little pocket change and anyone could hope to be in the highest accolades of society. Turn it around, there was a lot more to lose to experience the deep corners of the mind.

Sometimes the thoughts were enough to drive anyone insane. That was why Lucas drank so much. He knew that no matter how terrifying his thoughts were, he could control them. Yet when his brother threw him a curveball, he struggled to knock it out of the park. His feelings were no longer in check and the best he could manage was a hit over the foul post.

All his life, he looked after his brother. It was his job. It put him in a difficult position when Nathan did the same. Regardless, they were brothers and that's what they were supposed to do. Never would he imagine, though, that his brother would ask him to stop seeing a woman.

Nathan was a carefree guy, never had much beef with anyone. If he did, you could bet good money that the other person started it. The look on his face when he told Lucas the other night was the absolute lowest Lucas had ever seen him.

The blond would be lying if he said he wasn't in the exact same mood. His brother was all the family he had and normally, he had no problem giving Nathan what he wanted, but this was out of the question. Or so he thought. The problem was Nathan couldn't make him understand. All his life he was a person trying to understand which stands to reason why he didn't grant his request. It would have made it a hell of a lot easier if he had a reason.

He strolled into the apartment just as Nathan awoke and set a waxy, brown bag on the table. "Bratwurst?"

Nathan chuckled. "Special occasion?"

"No, more of a truce than anything."

"I wasn't aware we were at odds."

Lucas shrugged. "I didn't want to take the chance. And it gives me a good excuse to talk to you… about Brooke."

"Luke…" Nathan sighed.

"No. Just hear me out alright? I don't know what's happened in the interim, but that's what's keeping me from cutting all ties with a woman that clearly makes me happy."

Nathan ran his tongue around his cheek and crossed his arm. "You said it yourself, your relationship is nothing more than sex. Maybe you're mistaking happiness for sexual gratification."

"Wow. Really?" asked Lucas in disbelief.

"Look, I can't give you a reason and I think this is something stupid to fall out over. We've got each other's backs from the beginning and that's never going to change. Trust me on this."

Against better judgment, he found himself considering Nathan's words. If he didn't trust his brother, who else could he trust?

* * *

><p>She moved herself to perfectly nest herself inside his arms, those perfect, shimmering green eyes looking up at the man she loved.<p>

He stared back at her with equally loving eyes. "What are you thinking about?"

"You. Us. Everything. This… does this thing between us keep going or does it end at some point?" She began tracing lazy circles on his bare chest, sometimes an occasional letter if she saw fit.

He chuckled. "I would hope this lasts, I'm marrying you for God's sake."

That wasn't the answer she was looking for nor did it answer much. She sighed in resignation and took the sheets with her. The white treads trailed behind her were the foam surrounding Venus. Her back was exposed and her hair hung asymmetrically over her right shoulder.

"What's wrong?" he asked, out of courtesy.

"I… nothing. I love you…" she said defeated.

The creasing of his brows appeared on his face, "I'm sensing a 'but' here."

"Just forget it."

He abandoned the soft confines of the bed and wrapped his arms behind her. He placed his chin on her shoulder and softly whispered, "I love you. I don't know why and I'm never going to question it, but I do. And I know I keep saying this union was practically written in the stars, but we could just have easily ended up with others in our social bracket. I'd like to think I ended up with you for a reason, whatever that reason may be. I'll be damned if I do something stupid to ruin this because at the end of the day, it's just you and me."

Just like that, she felt the tension in her muscles loosen and her body surrendering to his in a soft embrace. She inhaled and closed her eyes, to let the world pass her by. She couldn't tell what would happen tomorrow, the day after, a week from now, or what would happen in the next month. All she could say for certain was that they had this, this moment and it would matter a hell of a lot more when the world fell apart.

The scary part was knowing it was going to, without the slightest idea of when. And when worse came to worst, she knew that the difficulty would come in letting go.

* * *

><p>"I hope you guys don't mind that I'm third wheeling and all." Lucas squinted as the rays of life struck his face. Odd, seeing as it was late December, but a welcoming sight nonetheless.<p>

"Not if you don't mind being seen with me," Skills said. Bevin was walking next to him, but the two kept a considerable amount of distance. No hand-holding either. A safety precaution really. "It could just as easily been a double date. Too bad you ain't got enough sense in that head of yours to tie a girl like that down." He had a joking tone but Lucas wasn't laughing. He had more of a grim expression on his face.

"So what do you do, Lucas?" Bevin asked innocently, quickly changing the subject.

Lucas dug his hands in his pocket and even though he turned to face her, and away from the sun, he still bore the squint. "I work down by the docks, moving crates all day."

"That's how you know he's got a proper head on his shoulders," Skills put a sturdy hand on Lucas' shoulder, "But he's not meant for carrying crates, not Luke here."

She pried, "What's my baby talking about?"

"I, uhh…" Lucas tried to answer.

"Smart bastard here is a writer. Give him a pen and paper, he'll make a symphony out of words. Best writer I've ever met." Skills gleamed with pride as he boasted about his friend.

Lucas laughed nervously. "I'd hardly call myself a writer. And you're biased Skills, not to mention that I'm the _only_ one you've met."

"Ah, hell. What difference does it make?" Skills held the door open for the both of them.

As soon as they walked in, they drew the glances of everyone in the room. After all, a white man, a white woman, and a black man made for the unlikeliest of groups. When they noticed it, they stopped in their tracks.

Lucas scoffed and opened his arms to its full wingspan. "Can I help you guys?" Those cowards turned straight back around and ignored them.

Skills realized the atmosphere of the establishment and it was one he had no care for. "Maybe we should go." He grabbed Lucas' arm to pull him out.

"Why? We have as much a right to be here as anyone else. We're staying." The blond knew that one day he would look back and hate himself for getting himself in trouble like this, and for letting his emotions control his actions, but he would never forgive himself if he didn't stand up for Skills.

Bevin looked to Skills for an answer, but Skills just shrugged. "Alright," he said defeated.

The defiant blond walked up to the bar as the other two followed suit. The bartender immediately catered to them. "What can I get you and your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend. I'll take three beers. Whatever's on tap is fine."

Meanwhile one of the workers had gone out back to tell the manager about the gutsy kid who was causing a riot, if you could even call it that. The rather corpulent man stopped his bartender abruptly. "Make that two beers."

Lucas furrowed his brows in confusion. "I ordered three beers. Now I just got here and I haven't been drinking anywhere else, so there's no way in hell you're cutting me off."

"We don't serve his kind," he nodded toward Skills.

Skills was no stranger to these racist types. These snide comments were nothing and entertaining them with a response would only result in his punishment. The law protected the white folk, not him. He was better than that though, but they didn't know that. The last thing he wanted to do was reinforce the notion of a savage race. That was the farthest thing from what _his kind_ were. Skills tried again to pull Lucas away, but the stubborn man pulled his arm right back.

"What kind is that? Human? Because you're serving me and you're serving her." Lucas pointed briefly to Bevin. "We didn't come in here looking for trouble. We just want beers."

"I get that. It's perfectly fine. You can get your beers as long as this man leaves," the manager tried to assuage the growing hostility. A group of men thought it wise to stand up in case Lucas made the first move.

"I can't get my beers and have him stay?" he asked, knowing the answer. The manager shook his head briskly. Lucas shrugged nonchalantly and pretended to walk out of the bar, only to do a 180 and land his fist right on the man's face.

The group of men quickly advanced, reaching for Skills, as someone tended to the manager.

Seeing this, Lucas ran for them, jabbing one on the jaw and kneeing another in the stomach. "Get your girlfriend and go, I can handle this."

Skills shook his head and sighed. He quickly whispered in her ear, "You go first. I'll get back to you."

Bevin hesitated.

"GO!"

She was scared for him, scared for them. The only thing she could do right now was listen and hope that he'd find his way back.

A man charged for the blond, who quickly grabbed the back of his shirt and tossed him over, breaking a table in the process.

"I always have to bail your dumb ass out," Skills joked.

"Better me than Nathan right?" Lucas threw back.

* * *

><p>Elsner was going to appreciate the sight of him. Cut above the eyelid, another on the cheek. A busted lip. Some fucker managed to cut his arm as well. The scarlet liquid was seeping through his shirt and formed a small puddle on the floor as he hung his arm lazily. He could care less as it ran its course over his skin.<p>

Maybe it was laziness. Maybe it was pain. He couldn't bring himself to tend to the wounds and instead, drank himself into oblivion. He managed to take a couple bottles of stout on his way out. His trophy, in a way.

He heard the keys jingling just outside the door. "Guess that little fucker finally decided to come home," thought Lucas.

Close but no cigar. Brunette, but with quite different assets.

Upon seeing her wrecked lover, she practically ran and cupped his face. "Shit, what did you do to yourself?"

"Nothing. Minor wounds," he said uninterestedly. He took another swig from the bottle.

It wasn't until she inspected the wounds that he looked down into her eyes. His lips were still attached to the aperture, but he slowly withdrew from it and planted them on her lips. The nerve endings on his lips were screaming at him to stop. Despite this, he needed to kiss her right now. He needed to know there was something more.

To his chagrin, she pushed his chest softly to distance the two of them. She turned away with a pained expression on her face, one that Lucas never expected to see.

"God, I want to so bad. I do… We have to get you cleaned up, you're in no condition to be kissing me." She ran her fingers delicately over his lips.

"Don't. It doesn't even hurt." He finished off the contents and set it down on the table.

She ignored him and went into the kitchen to find bandages and rubbing alcohol.

If he wasn't in so much pain, he would be laughing right now. Whoever would have imagined that Brooke Davis would be cleaning wounds? To some degree, he should have been scared at the thought. He caught her hand in time before she could apply the liquid to his arm. "I told you. Don't." His voice was as low as it was dangerous.

"Let me bandage you up. Don't be an ass." She snapped.

He glared at her. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be off with Baker somewhere?"

She was doing her best not to react like she normally would. With her parents and her boyfriend, she had to bury her anger and pretend everything was okay. With Lucas, she unleashed the full force of her wrath. There was something liberating about letting herself go and lashing out. Because he was hurt, she didn't want to go through their usual motions. She sighed and tried again. "He's somewhere and I'm here."

"So what? I'm just here to pass the fucking time?" Lucas found himself blowing up at her even though he wasn't sure what he was blaming her for. All those years built on his shoulders and against better judgment, he was unloading his burden. "If that's all I am to you, then get the fuck out. I don't want to see you anymore."

She drew back, shocked. The look on her face, though, was one of determination and if he wanted to be a stubborn bastard, she could be equally as stubborn. She never was the patient type anyway. "We agreed. This was _just_ sex. I don't know where this is coming from, but I can't do this. Look at you, you're not equipped to be handling a relationship with someone. God, how could you do something so stupid? You practically get yourself killed and expect me to stay and accept it? Then there's me. For God's sake, I'm not even with you. I'm engaged to be engaged to another man. And there's the matter of you putting me on a pedestal. I've tried to ignore it, but when you look at me, it's like you think I'm perfect."

He scoffed. "I don't think you're perfect. You're broken and so am I. We're messed up people and I never expected anything, much less for us to fix each other. But hell, if there's anything in my eyes when I look at you, it's understanding. Clearly, it's not reciprocated."

Sometimes he made her want to rip her hair out in frustration. "You're so difficult and, and…"

"Spit it out. I'm a grown man, I can handle it," he challenged.

"You're tasteless, you don't clean up after yourself, you drink like a fish and curse like a sailor, you have anger management issues, you're fucking stupid, you blow things out of proportion, you're aggravating, you're narrow-minded and stubborn, you're stuck in a shitty job, you don't take initiative when it comes to things that matter, you live in your own fucking world with no regard for what's happening around you. You dream and talk about life problems when you're knee deep in your own. You're the worst writer I've ever read and I hate you."

He narrowed his eyes and cornered her into the wall. "Tough shit princess. Get off your fucking throne. You drink as much as I do. You smoke as much as I do. And you've used at least three curses in that speech alone. You think you're not difficult? You want to see how much of my shit you've broken since you've been here? You let the man you love treat you like shit, but the best you can do is seek comfort in other men's arms. You think I live in my own world when you have yet to see what the world past 5th avenue is like. You accuse me incessantly of things I've never done. I have problems, but you've got just as many as I do. And for the record, I hate you too. It's not hard to see why Julian doesn't want to be around you." It was too late to retract his words and he realized it too late as her hand came crashing down on his face. He ran his tongue along his burning cheek. "At least you care enough to hit the uninjured side," he muttered.

Apparently he spoke too soon. She took the liberty of gracing the other side of his face with her hand's presence.

"Fucking hell." He stopped to look at her face, which was now stained with tears. Fucking hell was right. He wanted to kill Julian for breaking her the last time she showed up at his apartment in the middle of night. Now here he was, doing the exact same thing. With bruised knuckles, it was going to be hard to pound himself in.

She grabbed her bag and tried to leave.

He took her arm and pulled her back. "Baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of that." He ran his fingers through her hair all the while grateful that she stayed instead of slapping him and walking the other way. "Look, I've got a lot of things on my mind, but that's still no excuse for me to talk to you like that. You're right, we're just two people having sex. There's no reason we should be getting in fights about each other. I mean, we barely even know each other, right?" he said lamely.

She was struggling to not break down anymore than she already was. Her only response was a timid whisper. "I can't fall in love with you Lucas. I just can't."

"I get that. So no problems from me, okay?" He was trying his best to make things the way they were and maybe she did make him happy, but it didn't matter. Things couldn't change for them. "Are you going to bandage this ass? He can't do it by himself."

She stared at him with the eyes of her ten-year-old self. Quietly, she brought him to his chair. And they sat there for the longest time in complete silence while she tried not to hurt him too much.

He was doing a great job of pretending she didn't, especially when she would press down on his cuts a little too hard. As she closed the box, he placed his hand on hers. "Thanks. You should get going, Baker's going to be waiting for you." Without another word, he got up and retreated to his room, closing the door quietly upon arrival.

He could never bring himself to end things openly. If Nathan saw him right now, he'd call him out for being a coward. Then he'd stop being the asshole he was and comfort his big brother, saying it was for the best. In those last words, he hoped desperately that the message was louder than anything his words ever counted for before.

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><p><strong>I know some of you have been wanting to see what Julian and Brooke's relationship is like. I basically touched upon it in this chapter, in addition to causing more problems. And if any of you are hating Nathan right now, you'll soon learn about his reasoning. Until next time.<strong>


	8. The Gentle Awakening

**My irresponsible, inconsistent self is back with another chapter. Merry (belated) Christmas and Happy New Year! I come bearing good (or bad) news, depending on how you look at it. I finally got into college, which means I have more time for writing. That doesn't mean I don't have any work to do because I still have to work on not getting that acceptance rescinded. It does mean that my updates will be more frequent than they have been as of late.  
><strong>

**First order of business. There was some concern over whether this is actually a Brucas or Brulian story. Rest assured, this is a Brucas story and those are the only stories I will be writing. Words cannot convey my dislike for Brulian.**

**Second order of business. This chapter is a bit different than the other ones in that I decided to add parts of Lucas' writing. Also, it may be a bit depressing. I've also borrowed writing from other people, so you guys can try and find where it is. Or not. **

**Thirdly, I tried to explain a little more about Julian and Brooke's relationship as well as Lucas and Brooke's. I don't know if I did it well, but as you can imagine, I haven't made things easy for myself. In plain words, Brooke is in love with two different guys. (Yea, I know what you're probably thinking) And at times, it seems like she chooses Julian over Lucas and maybe she does. However, there's a part of her still holding out for Lucas and that's where the conflict comes in. The most I can ask of you guys is to trust where I'm going with this and I do take into consideration some of the things you guys suggest.  
><strong>

**Without further ado...  
><strong>

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><p><em>The man took no direction and never had much bearing unto the world around him. Truth be told, he was a miniscule particle among other miniscule particles. While society tried its best to hide underneath a grossly ostentatious mask, he bore his true face, accepting the consequences with open arms. One might call him foolish, yes, but without the air of pretention, he found his life much simpler. Then he'd come to realize that he had indeed been foolish. Those vultures picked at him as if he were a long gone animal and the prize, his beating heart.<em>

_He expected to feel shock, pain, anything really. So he waited past the setting of many suns in hopes of repaying for his folly, to no such avail. Instead, he was consumed, like the miniscule particle he was, into nothingness, haunted by a screeching silence. His hopes and dreams were just that: hopes and dreams. His abrupt fall into the abyss took with it, any chance of fruition. Perhaps that was his punishment. His self was subject to so many, countless atrocities that he simply had no room for another. He was stuck in a sort of limbo, hoping for an escape from a place which had no exit. _

_Thus he was trapped, deepening himself in inquiry of the unfamiliar. Unfortunately for him, he was greeted with echoes from nowhere. And it drove him mad._

He polished off the last of the scotch as he furiously put pen to paper. Pain was writer's gold and while its effects were profound, it was perfectly clear to him. Each left him with a scar and a perspective. He tried continually to distance himself from the stark contrasts of nature only to find them in quick pursuit. His fragility was concealed by these perpetual marks and he allowed himself to assume the identity it created. Little did he know, those layers cut like butter and he was powerless to stop it.

When he was but a little kid, he had a brief conversation with an old man, who was rather close to his mother. He was too busy being a child to ever take the man seriously and perhaps his question was not all that serious either. Be that as it may, his memory came back as quickly as it did were it the day before.

"_What is your greatest ambition?"_

He was young and had the world at his feet. There was no great ambition until he took the first step. So he left the question unanswered and shrugged. And the question lay there, dormant until its eruption.

The blond no longer had the time of a young child, nor the mind. What he did have was perspective. Maybe there was no greatest ambition. There were two paths one took, not by choice, but by the willing of some higher power. He would either achieve his greatest ambition and live to see many other greatest ambitions, only to question if each was really the greatest. Or he would work endlessly to reach the one and then drop from the world without ever seeing its life. Therefore, his greatest ambition would then have to become immortal, for he would have all the time in the world to achieve however many ambitions he chose.

Upon further thought, immortality was not without its entrapments, loopholes in a seemingly untouchable contract. Immortality was not given to everyone; if it were, he would go insane trying to face these people every day. Those mere mortals would be destined for death, which he would once have had to fear. They would ceaselessly disappear one after the other, and he but a witness to all these grieved ones. Rather dismal, if you asked him. Thus, he saw fit to readjust it.

"_To become immortal, then die"_

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><p>Neptune's ire was visible to those who stood. And it was nature at its purest, most savage form. There was a fog just behind the horizon that clouded all judgment.<p>

Then a sudden blink of light came from along the shore. As quickly as it came, it faded into a subtle orange enveloped by racing ash. And the smoke that it gave was absorbed into the air and its sight was no more. The grain of the earth mixed with the clouds of the sky, which had descended upon them.

"It's fucking cold. Get your ass back home before you freeze." The brunette tugged hopelessly on the collars of his coat for a little more warmth.

The blond ignored him and took another long drag.

"Fucking hell Luke. You're a writer, we get it. Can we go now?"

"I have a flair for the dramatic. This cold is nothing."

The younger of the two sighed and walked to his brother. He placed a comforting hand on the blond's shoulder. "I'm sorry. You don't blame me right?"

Lucas stared at the ground before answering. "No, but I wish I did. Then I could do more than just think about how I should feel."

_There was no use in trying to find the reason within madness because the heart was an unpredictable thing. Men act without reason for the very reason that at the foundation of it all, men are animals, savages, merely trying to stay alive. The heart is a match. There's no knowing when it's going to ignite or who ignites it. And once it starts, it burns with an intensity which knows no bounds. Then it starts to flicker and fade until all that's left is ash and splint. All of a sudden it feels as if the air has been sucked out and the only thing that can prove its existence is reigniting a match that has already been burned to its brim. _

"Sometimes when I'm home, I feel like she's on the other side of the door. I know she's there, but no matter how many times she shows up, she hesitates to knock and I'm too scared to open the door. It's still too raw. We started in a hopeless place, it's only fitting it end there."

"You can't keep living like this, like an empty shell of a man. At some point, it has to stop."

"I'm fully aware, but it's easier to pretend I'm not."

Nathan was at a loss. There was nothing he could possibly say to reconcile the situation. Maybe it was easier to pretend. Maybe it was easier to see if time did heal all wounds. Conscience does make cowards of us all.

* * *

><p>"How's he holding up?"<p>

"Like San Francisco in 1906, so you tell me."

Haley ignited his heart long before he knew what was happening and somehow, he knew it would burn for a long time to come. The two were practically one these days. Nathan all but moved out of the apartment. His brother would always have a presence in his life, but Haley was now his confidante.

"He used to have that look in his eyes. The one that you have for me," Haley said, although it was unclear whether it was to herself, "Now it doesn't even show. I'm scared for you brother, Nate. He's the kind of person that reminds us of how high we can be lifted"

"And how fast we can fall," Nathan finished, with a haunting emptiness in his cerulean irises. "It's my fault. He doesn't think it is, but it's my fault. I was scared that Brooke was going to hurt him. I saw how in love with Baker she was and I panicked. I'm supposed to look out for Luke, you know? So I told him he had to stop seeing her. And if there was anything Luke is good at, it's being a brother… my brother. He didn't even ask me why. He just did it."

The strawberry blonde ran her nimble fingers through his dark locks. "It's not your fault. As much as she loves Baker, she also loves Lucas. Sometimes we don't believe in love and when we find it, it's a wonderful thing. I saw her once, at the club. She had all sorts of sadness painted on her face. She's too scared to believe in love and now she loves two different people. It's hard to make sense of that. My momma only ever loved my pops and he only loved her. They still can't imagine loving other people. She didn't expect to love, much less to love more than one person. I know you're scared that Brooke will hurt Lucas and maybe she already has, but your brother pushed her first. She only hurt him by instinct, not intention."

A moment of silence interrupted them. The brunette couldn't argue with her nor could he agree. "She came too quickly and she left too quickly. It's just like what happened with mom."

She caressed his cheek and placed a kiss on his forehead. "We have to trust that the world is fair and that it's going to turn the right way."

"The world is never fair. It's always asking for more. It's always testing us until we break."

"You can't believe that. There has to be something to save us all. For Lucas and Brooke, it's each other. Some people will look at Lucas and say he's the odd part of the equation. Some people will look at Baker and say the same thing. People will believe what they want to believe, hear what they want to hear. I know it seems like the world has absolutely no redeeming qualities, but sometimes our faith is just a risk before the reward."

"Hales…" He wanted to believe her, but too much had happened to him. He didn't have the heart to tell her she was wrong, for it was what he truly believed. She was right; he didn't want to hear any of this.

She stopped him. "Stay here."

A bewildered expression marked his broken face. "What?"

"Stay here. There's something I need to do." She planted a chaste kiss on his lips and threw her coat over her petite body.

"It's the middle of the night, where are you going?"

"Just trust me okay?"

* * *

><p>"Ms. Davis?"<p>

The brunette turned at the mention of her name. Her purse no longer held her attention.

"You don't know me, but-"

"Wait. You're that James girl, Nathan's girl, right?"

The petite blonde chuckled. "I would have gone with Haley James or the fact that Nathan's really my boy, but that works too."

"I'm sorry," Brooke replied solemnly. It was easy to see that she didn't find humor nor the focus in the conversation. "You wanted to talk to me about something?"

"Yea. It's actually about Lucas." Immediately, she sees the brunette stiffen. "Before I say anything else, I know you may not think it's my business. That's perfectly alright. These words might go through one ear and out the other, but I can't sleep tonight without trying to talk to you."

Brooke nodded for her to continue.

"I don't understand what you're going through, but whatever it is, I know it must be hard. You love Julian and it's apparent. It's also apparent that you love Lucas. I know you two agreed that your meetings were purely for sex. Then you fell in love and it was the most unexpected thing."

"We're not in love. We just make each other happy."

Haley looked at her sympathetically. "Denial is the most tragic thing that can happen to love. We were taught to love one person and here you are, trying to wrap your head around the fact that you can't color inside the lines."

Brooke laughed dryly. "I never was one to stick to the rules."

"Lucas is a mess. He isn't the same without you in his life. When you came, it's like he was suddenly awakened from a long sleep. When you guys stopped seeing each other, it's like the light just turned off and now he's running blind. I'm not asking you to choose. I'm asking you to acknowledge what's there and maybe make something out of it."

She hesitated. "I'm with Julian," she offered weakly. "Lucas deserves someone that can give herself fully to him. I'm not that woman."

"Give him a chance. There are the shouldn't do's in life and if you're looking for that, you'll always find one. It takes a little courage to do the can do's. The puffiness around your eyes tells me Lucas isn't the only one that feels miserable. Maybe he can save you, if you let him."

She inhaled sharply, in pain. Even though she closed her eyes, she could perfectly see the world spin around her. "I'm no good for saving; it's too late for that."

* * *

><p>He sat on the steps of the building, impervious to the chill. The stick was keeping him warm. The streets were empty, not uncommon during this time of day.<p>

The only man who made an appearance was the one whom Lucas had seen pedaling his cart in the early hours and pedaling right back in the late hours.

She took a seat next to him, clueless about how to start. He turned to look at her when she did and just as quickly turned back. Without warning, she rested her head on his shoulder. It grabbed his heart, to have her so close and to not have her at all. He placed an arm around her, enveloping her in him. There was something romantic about the tragedy of it all.

Then the tears ran freely down her porcelain face. It wasn't until her sobbing became audible that Lucas knew she was crying.

He tossed the cig aside and wiped her tears with his calloused thumb while hushing her comfortably. He brushed the loose strand of hair from her face and tucked it neatly behind her ear. Neither of them understood what was happening and why they accepted each other so openly. Yet they did and it was the kind of love that was made to destroy and rebuild. They needed each other. It didn't matter that the words were few and far between. It didn't matter that on some level, they were still hurt and angry with each other.

All that mattered was that she has here now and he was here with her.

Every day, he'd watch as ships come in and go out and wished that one of them could take him away from his miserable existence. And she managed to reel him in and make him want to stay.

Her life was about the masks she could put on. The more, the better. She couldn't differentiate from fake and real, but Lucas was the most real thing she had ever felt. And those masks peeled away like a butterfly that emerged from its cocoon.

He got up and offered her a hand. The cold was catching up and the hours weighed on their eyes. But none of it mattered as they danced to the silence.

* * *

><p><strong>Before anyone decides to hurl any comments my way, I know that the ending may seem abrupt. That being said, it's nowhere near a resolution. I've stressed before that their relationship is extremely volatile and in a way, they're each other's drugs. They're still hurt by the other's actions and they're not okay with what's happening. This last part was meant to convey their need for each other, despite what they're feeling. This doesn't mean that they're back to normal nor does it mean that everything that's happened before is null and void. Until next time.<br>**


	9. Set Fire to the Rain

**I know I promised a quick update (it is considering how long it has taken for the last few chapters). Turns out I spoke too soon. I had hell week to get through and I kind of lost my motivation to sit down and write after I got an entire week off. Then there are the details in between that I'm not going to get into because it was pretty dumb in retrospect. Basically it involved me trying to get some writing done, which did not happen... at all. **

**None of that matters. I want to note that I got a couple of really great comments last chapter and needless to say, my ego has been thoroughly boosted and my face had a nice exercise in the form of idiotic looking smiles.**** You guys are an extremely awesome reader base.**

* * *

><p>An inch of light invaded the present darkness, and in the process, illuminated the dust particles wafting through the air.<p>

His eyes sought futilely to adjust to the onslaught of rays emanating from the dim bulb just outside. "Nate?" he groggily asked. The hoarseness in his voice was apparent and typical.

"I just came to check up on you. Thank God you're not writing at this unseemly hour. Never mind me, go back to sleep." It wasn't hard to take notice of the body next to his brother's. Perhaps that was why he retreated so quickly.

The blond threw on his sweater and loudly whispered. "Wait."

The brunette turned back to look at his brother and gave him a nod. He pointed outward. "I'll be waiting in the kitchen."

Lucas snuck a glance at the woman next to him. She had asked to stay the night, to which he responded with a simple question: "What about Baker?" She cast away any concerns when she said that the banker was in Chicago for business and would not be returning for another fortnight. All in a relationship's lifespan; if he were asked to point out the times Baker was away, he would have said too many. Even in the short life of their quasi-love-affair, he knew more than he should about the practices of the elusive banker.

Satisfied that she had finally gotten a decent night's sleep, or so she told him, he left her in the soft escape of dreams and pillows. He took a seat at the table where his brother was already nursing a half empty glass of whisky. Always half empty, never half full.

"Is Brooke in there?" the younger brother asked knowingly.

"Yea. Look, I know what you said and I want you to know that I'm going to listen. What happened last night was not a reconciliation of any sort. I'm not going to lie to you. It's going to take some time before I can go back to the way I was. She's just here for the night or maybe for a few more nights, I honestly don't know."

"Don't."

Lucas looked at him, confused.

Before the blond could ask any questions, Nathan explained, "I know what I said. It's just… I've seen you lost for days and goddamn it, even I've been losing sleep. You're miserable without that woman. I know it and you know it. But I also know that she can open up a whole new can of worms." He stopped and inhaled deeply as if the world had suddenly found a way to weigh on him. "I'm scared. You're my big brother. I act like I'm the toughest kid out there, but it's only because I know you have my back. **You're** the strongest person I know and seeing you in such a fallen state gave me a glimpse at what life would be like if you weren't here. If she makes you happy, then be with her. You're a grown man, I can't tell you what to do. Just be careful, alright? I don't want to have to hear that Baker took care of you, least of all from someone else."

"She does." Lucas had that distant look in his eyes. Nathan immediately realized that Lucas had ignored his last few words. No man wanted advice, only corroboration. "That's why it's so hard to let go. If Mom could see me now," he chuckled dryly.

"She'd beat you over the head and ask you what the hell you were doing, getting involved with another man's woman"

Lucas shrugged. "She would. But then, if Brooke and I had any semblance of a normal relationship and if I somehow gotten her to agree to meet Mom, Mom would have loved her. Sometimes Brooke reminds me so much of her. They're both independent and fearless, really the most stubbornly strong people I know. And they're both beautiful, in their own ways of course. God, I wish she was still here." He sighed. "This conversation is too heavy for me to be having sober." He quickly swiped the bottle of whisky and proceeded to take massive gulps, made evident by the throbbing of his Adam's apple.

Nathan laughed. "Bullshit. That's just another excuse for you to get a drink." He raised his glass for Lucas to tap with the bottle.

"Maybe. Practically goes down like water now." He took another swig. "We've been talking about me a lot lately. I may be an egotistical son of a bitch, but hell, even I tire of talking 'bout myself all the time. I hear Haley's been whipping you into shape. Thanks to her, you're actually half decent to be around," he joked.

"Why thanks. She's a great girl, too great for me, even. I don't deserve a woman like her, but every day I thank my lucky stars that she decided I was worth it." He chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Lucas asked as he removed his lips from the aperture with one loud pluck.

"Nothing, I was just thinking about what Dad said. I mean we were too young to understand what he was talking about, but now I think I understand."

"Yea? How is that?"

"He said that in his marriage, Mom made all the small decisions and he made all the big decisions. Naturally, since he was the head of the household. Then he said 'To this day, son, there haven't been any big decisions to make.'"

"He found the woman of his dreams and lived out the rest of his days happily, though we didn't have much." Lucas ran his hand through his hair, frustrated. "I only wish I could become half the man he was and find the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. We all know who you're spending yours with, you lucky bastard." He nudged his brother.

Nathan smiled at the thought of the petite blonde. "The moment I saw her, I thought to myself, 'This is the girl I'm going to marry.' I just never imagined that I would be falling this hard, this fast. I don't even think she knows I want to make an honest woman out of her."

"The day you tie her down is the day you learn that there's someone you've got to look after yourself for. The sooner you stop doing half the dumb shit you do with that gang of yours, the better."

"Come on, why'd you have to ruin it? We had a good conversation going on here."

"That's my job. Anyway, I have to get back to sleep. I have an early day tomorrow." He gave his brother a quick pat on the back.

"Night" bid Nathan.

* * *

><p>Despite his best efforts to succumb to sleep again, he had failed and ended up awake for the rest of the night. The silence was too hauntingly loud and his thoughts were running a marathon in his head. The buzz from what little amounts of alcohol he had consumed earlier had since faded, leaving him alone with the dangerous enemy in his head.<p>

He grew up a bit of a loner. He tried to read as much as he could and in his spare time, he found himself alone. His parents were always off at work and Nathan hadn't grown to be quite the pain he was now. Thus, he had plenty of time to think and my God, did he think. It was all he ever seemed to do at that age. It matured him long past his years and while it may have been an advantage when his mother died, it was the worst thing for a kid. He struggled to grasp and put his mind in order when he was contained in the body of an adolescent.

Growing up poor and having both his parents die on him was bound to make him the most cynical bloke out there. That's when his thoughts turned as black as a New York night in the winter. And just like the day, there were far more dark hours than there were light.

Without alcohol, his mind degenerated into a sick, depraved ghost, against whom he had an internal fight every second of every day. Each glass, each shot was meant to drown out the noises coming from his head.

He admired the brunette in his bed, longingly. She seemed to take the place of alcohol and was sometimes a better remedy than the occasional hit. He was due at the docks in another hour and a half, a fact he dreaded. He wanted nothing more than to stay in bed and for the world to disappear.

She looked so at peace and even though his thoughts did nothing more than to provide a nighttime hell for him, he couldn't help but feel an inkling of peace just watching her. As if by reflex, he brushed a stray hair from her face and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

She stirred at his touch, but remained asleep.

"Brooke," he whispered, "Wake up."

"Five more minutes" she groaned. It was uncharacteristic of her. In the beginnings of their affair, she would always wake up and sneak out. He didn't complain; it saved him from the awkward shuffling in the morning. Somewhere it had changed. She no longer ran and he no longer cared.

He threw the covers over and started his morning routine as quietly as he could manage. By the time he was finished, she was still asleep and those five minutes were long past. He gently shook her shoulders, hoping for some response. "Go to work. I'll be here when you get back."

The only trouble was he was afraid he would finally break if he saw her in those hours.

* * *

><p>He opened the case and carefully shifted down a stick. He lit it and exhaled slowly.<p>

She snatched it from his mouth and snubbed it between her heel and the asphalt. "I thought I told you not to smoke. You know I hate that smell."

He shrugged. "It's habit. Reminds me, there's something that I've been meaning to do." They had been roaming the city streets for quite a while.

"Yea? What's that?"

"It's always been my and Luke, us conquering the world, you know? I guess we've relied on each other so much that I don't know how to trust other people. But you. You're something special, you know that? Someday I'm going to make you mine and all those blokes in the club eyeing you will think twice before they look again."

"They can look all they want, I'm already yours." The simple statement brought a rare smile to his face. It was always a smirk, something to make him appear more confident than he really was.

He nodded toward the man at the stand and lifted two fingers. The man produced two wax paper bags while Nathan dropped a couple of coins in return. Both men nodded once more in acknowledgement, Nathan in thanks and the man in satisfaction. "Here, take one."

She raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Roasted chestnuts?"

"Yep. When I was younger, my dad used to take my mother, Luke, and me to the seaport. It was around this time of year. My mother would scold him," he chuckled, "She was always afraid that we were going to catch a cold, but she relented every single year. We would walk by the seaport with a bag of chestnuts in each of our hands while Dad entertained us. He would toss us in the air and it felt so liberating. Damn near gave Mom a heart attack every time."

She instinctively brought a hand to his face and pecked his lips. "Do you still go?" her eyes bore into his soul, asking for a key to the locked door that was his heart.

"No. Not since Dad died. Mom couldn't bring herself to go to the seaport after that. And I guess Luke kind of forgot about it, don't know why since he works at the docks. It's basically the same thing. If he does remember, he doesn't show any signs. God, I love that place. I wish I could still go."

They basked in the silence for a couple of seconds. "Why don't we?"

"What?" he asked amused.

"I mean, what's stopping us? You don't have to wish you could go. You're still in New York. I'm not needed at work until five. You don't have work today. We could skip across town and relive that memory of yours. It's only a few blocks from here, you know."

He chuckled. "That's the thing I've been meaning to do. I wanted to bring you there, but I kind of chickened out. I don't know…"

"Come on," she tugged at his hand and led him through the streets. With the trademark New York walking pace, they were practically there in no time.

Nathan had to hold onto Haley to keep his knees from buckling under. There it was. A few things had changed, but it was largely just as he remembered it, just as magical as when he trotted through the locale as a child.

Her arm was wrapped around his waist and her other hand was planted firmly on his chest. "I'm glad you to decided to tell me about this."

"Yea, well. I have to paint myself as the perfect guy. Can't have you thinking that all I know how to do is wield a gun, be extremely charming, and look incredibly handsome, now can we?"

She laughed sarcastically. "Very funny. Good to see that ego of yours hasn't gotten to your head."

He spun her around so that she was now facing him. He grasped her hands using his. "I'm going to make it big someday. Then I won't be running on the streets, working and putting myself in danger. One day, when you decide to settle with me and when we have the most adorable boy, we'll come here. I'll be the father that my father didn't get a chance to be."

"Not a girl?"

"Hey, these looks are going to last forever. I have to start training the next Ty Cobb before this face can no longer cash in. Honestly, girl or boy, I don't care. I'm going to love that child with everything in me."

* * *

><p>"That's the last of it," Lucas announced as he handed the crate to another worker.<p>

The worker dusted off his gloves and adjusted his cap. "Finally. All we have to do is check out with that dirt bag Elsner. Say, you want to get a drink after this? A couple of the guys are comin' too."

He could have gone to the bar and drank beyond the point of coherency or he could have turned in for the night and rested next to a warm body, depending on how reliable the promise was. The latter would have won out, had it not been for the fact that he could barely face the sight of the brunette. It had hurt to see her next to him in the morning and it would have done the exact same when he returned. With the former option, there were two reactions: the alcohol would make him forget his problems, if only temporarily, or it would only intensify pain. Either way, it wouldn't entail seeing her. And the way he saw it, he fared a one-in-two chance of experiencing the pain which he desperately wanted to avoid by drinking and a one-in-one chance of doing so if he returned to his apartment. The former odds stacked better any which way.

"Sure," he gave in.

Jake jogged their way. "Hey. Elsner's not in his office so I checked out for all of you." Appreciative nods and comments were thrown his way.

"We're heading out for a drink. You in?" Lucas asked.

"Uhh-"

Another worker answered for him. "He says the same thing every time. The money is for the wife and kid. There's no room for the drink, ain't I right Jake?"

"Oh shut up. If you come, drinks on me," the blond offered.

"Pretty boy, you gonna buy a pint for the rest of us?" joked one of the workers.

"No such luck. Offer's only out for Jake here." Luke threw an arm over Jake's shoulder.

"Oh hell. Let's go."

There were enough bars lining an entire block and surely, each had his own venue. None of them housed the rowdy bunch like O'Halloran's. So it was decided that the venue of choice for this night would be the bar a few blocks from Lucas' apartment. It was irony, if it ever existed.

"Morello, round of beers"

The burly brunette nodded and started on the beer font. As soon as he was done, the group of workers crowded around the bar, grabbed their beers, and slapped their share on the mahogany bar top.

Jake took a careful sip and the froth took the place of a respectable moustache. "I don't know how long it is since I last had a beer."

"Peyton keeps you on a tight leash?"

"The tightest. And there's me too. I keep myself from doing anything because I've seen too many families starve from the drink. God do I love the taste." He began pounding drink after drink and as promised, Lucas paid for the first. The two slowly drank what they had in their pockets, but it never seemed enough. "That broad's got her eyes on you." He pointed the glass toward a blonde in the back.

Sure enough, there she was, batting her eyelashes at Lucas. Granted she was attractive, he wasn't about to dig his own grave. When his mom died, he was reckless. He didn't give a rat's ass about anyone except his brother. If Brooke were with him then, he would have bedded the blonde. He would have done anything to settle a score that wasn't meant to be kept. Her being with Baker was unsettling and he would be the first to admit that he was jealous. No reason he shouldn't own up to his own feelings. Now he was an adult, whatever the fuck that meant. Even with a few pints in him, he had the sense to stay away. And by God, it was too fucking similar to the way he had met Brooke.

He shrugged. "Let her keep looking. If it's not me tonight, it's bound to be some other lad." He brought the rim of the glass to his lips and didn't stop until all that was left was a tiny bit of froth sinking along the curves. He nodded to Owen, who immediately understood. Then, he turned back to a dazed-looking Jake. "You alright Jake?"

"Yea, fine. I'm just a little drunk."

Lucas laughed. "If you weren't drunk, I'd be surprised." He stared at his refilled glass for a while before he spoke again. "Come on, let's get you home."

"Fuck that. Morello, get me another pint." Lucas shook his head at Owen, signaling to cut Jake off. Owen could care less about his patrons getting drunk, but the last thing he wanted to do was get into the crosshairs.

"Don't make me fight you on this. You had your fun, now we have to go."

Jake prepared to get up and waved an accusing finger at Lucas. "Now you listen-" His hand failed him, just shy of the bar top and he fell into the open arms of his friend. He was down for the count, which meant any ounce of fight in him was gone.

* * *

><p>He rapped his fist against the wooden door a couple of times, hoping for an answer.<p>

A groggy blonde opened the door.

"Hey Peyton. I came here to drop off Jake," he said.

Her sleepiness dissipated and she invited him in. "Come in," she said somewhat anxiously. She removed the lone pillow and blanket on the couch, undoubtedly dented moments earlier by her. "Put him here."

Lucas unloaded the burden from his shoulders and rolled the man onto the couch. "He's had a lot to drink tonight, but he should be okay in the morning."

The brunette groaned and struggled to find focus. "Peyton, baby. Where's Jenny? We have to get her up." He clumsily got up and placed a sloppy kiss on Peyton. "I love you."

She chuckled. The guys at the docks always gave Jake a hard time because they thought Peyton wore the pants in the relationship and she was always keeping an eye on Jake. They made her out to be a frigid bitch. Seeing her with Jake proved otherwise. Despite the talk at the docks, it was clear that the two were desperately in love with each other.

"This is my wife, Lucas," Jake said, "Isn't she beautiful?" He placed another kiss, this time on her forehead.

Lucas smiled. "She is," he said, to appease Jake, "I'm going to go now."

Jake held him back. "Hold on. Peyton, go get the stout. Let's continue drinking. Here, take a seat."

"Don't worry, I've got him. Bye Luke," Peyton tried to calm Jake down. He was a handful to say the least.

"You sure? I could hold out for a couple minutes, make sure Jake's settled."

"It's fine. I'm sure you've got a girl at home you're dying to get to," Peyton said warmly, "Now go."

"Yea," he said distantly, "Bye."

* * *

><p>The brunette was asleep on his couch. A blanket was thrown over her small frame, whose shadow was casted on the wall by the candlelight.<p>

He looked over the table to see a less than modest spread, resembling something of a banquet. She had told him that she couldn't cook to save her life and despite his greatest efforts to get her to cook, she once caused a small fire in his kitchen making a blackened egg. Half the items on the table were either burned or raw; there was no medium, no perfect finish. What wasn't salvageable was swimming in mysterious liquids which no doubt, would hardly be able to attract a willing crowd. Being the glutton for punishment as he was, he took the knife, the seemingly out-of-picture item in the whole still life. The silver, faux-silver of course, piece of cutlery was the untouched, pure element. He brought it to the chicken and cut a slice. Somehow, it was bittersweet. Not so much on the palette, but in his heart.

She was trying desperately hard to save something that was never meant to be saved. At least, that's what he decided. He was close to breaking, he felt it. Everything in him was held by a measly wire, threatening to snap under the added weight. Then there was a fire raging within him, a fury that became painstakingly destructive to stop. A meal was the last thing that would fix them and in his mind, it was not even close to a first step. Yet, she took it, taking a leap of faith on him. He was trying to avoid her all night because he didn't have the same faith. The things he saw made him a broken shell of a man, incapable of hope. He took things as they came; any expectation, prediction, wish was a setup for disappointment and in the off chance it would turn out well or, more likely, manageable, so be it.

Great expectations. What a laugh.

His calloused hands, once capable of wreaking the most soul-shattering havoc, reached out and uncovered her, to reveal the greatest gift, he thought, given to man. Sure, there were cracks so tiny that they were hardly noticeable, but she was the closest thing to angelic perfection. She was, without a question, the epitome of beauty, a Botticelli among the shadows.

The greatest pain ever inflicted on mankind was love. It was a laceration, for which there was no cure and one that lived through memory. Nothing ever caused trust to be given so freely or to be wiped so quickly from the world.

That's how he felt with her. The turbulence of nature, everything wrong and everything right, he saw in them.

She awoke suddenly, her eyes slowly opening and a smile lighting her countenance. "Lucas," she said simply.

He returned the gesture, sadly. "Hey," he whispered, "You didn't destroy my kitchen, did you?"

"Only half of it." She chuckled and every aching and tired limb of his breathed in the hoarseness. For a moment, he felt rejuvenation. Of what, he was unsure.

He held her hands in his and looked in those emerald irises. "I… appreciate this gesture and I'm slightly flattered that you went through all this trouble."

"You should. I've never done this for anyone, you know?" Somewhere, hidden beneath the jocular tone, was a certain earnestness rare as a wild pearl.

He sighed and the factitious happiness disappeared from his appearance. "What are we doing? I'll admit, it's a nice escape. I mean, there's a cornucopia of food, romantic light, and a beautiful woman in my apartment. No man in his right mind would ever complain. I know it's hard to let go, but at the end of the day, this is a less than ideal relationship. You're in love with another man and I'm just a guy that sleeps with you. As much as I like pretending otherwise, we're the last people who should be playing house. Pretending never gets anywhere, I should know."

She inhaled sharply. "I get that, I really do. I just… I want to give this a chance. I know what it's like to never see things to the end because that's what I do every day. There's always something that scares me or takes too much time and coupled with my disinterest, it becomes a litany of failures and a tally count of zero for me. And then there's times when I want to see things through because I'm smart enough to know it's worth seeing through. We can give up, throw in the towel right now and I'll walk away. I won't blame you for it, but I'll spend the rest of my life regretting it. Two weeks. I'm all yours for two weeks time. I'm hoping that your answer will be yes."

A glimmer of interest and a tiny morsel of hope were brewing in his eyes. "The answer to what?"

"The world becomes a background to all other things. At the center of it all, two souls looking for a reason for being. That's us. I need to give us a chance. Two weeks is not a lot of time, but time has never been on our side. It'd be a mistake to wait for time to become an ally. Whatever the circumstances, I can give myself wholly to you for two weeks and it's as fair a shot as any. Maybe in the frantic rush, we'll find what we're looking for."

"What if we don't? I don't…I can't bear the thought."

Her eyes were glistening from a despairing, dying attempt like a white dwarf consumed by the empty space. "It makes the step toward acceptance easier, I hope."

"You ever see paint crack?" he asked, almost randomly. Catching the bewildered expression on her face at the seemingly inexplicable change of subject, he clarified. "It happens when the wrong paint is put on a surface. You give it time to dry, then you start to see the cracks. You can't just throw something that's not compatible together and expect it to work. I'm the coward here, I know. As much as I want to give this a try, I have my reservations. I'm going to be frank. I don't think I've ever wanted something, someone as much as I have wanted you. And you know, that I would do anything to get what I want because I'm just that type of self-entitled bastard. It's the animal instinct in me, an inherent need, a priority above all others, to protect myself. We can try and if, when we fail, I don't think I can handle it. Sometimes it feels like we're going around in circles. We're two vastly different people. No matter what you do, how hard you try to make it work, there are some things out of reach."

"We're different and the same. You don't expect things to work, you make them work. There's no middle ground."

That stubbornness biting at him was the same stubbornness he saw in his mother, an unwillingness to stop until she gave her children what they wanted. He found himself relenting. "Two weeks. You and me for two weeks, no one else. You stay here. I want to be able to wake up to you in the morning, kiss you goodbye as I go to work. And I want to come home to burned poultry, or beef, your choice, soggy vegetables, and a less than edible dessert to finish. I want to make love to you and hold you and know that you're mine, if only for two weeks. In that time, if I feel like we're not working and it's time to give up, I want you to respect that. Is that alright with you?"

"Yes." All that and more.

* * *

><p><strong>I finished the chapter last night, but I didn't feel like it was finished. Any thoughts, suggestions, just throw them my way. Heads up for next chapter: I'm going to focus a bit more on Julian. So far everything seems black and white, people are usually good or bad. You'll start to see a shift in that. Until next time<strong>.


	10. Carry That Weight

**Apparently I spoke too soon when I said I was going to update more frequently. My schoolwork actually increased over the past weeks and I started working, so it's safe to say that I haven't had any time to write until now. I had a hard time writing this chapter because the dreaded writer's block decided to kick in. I had almost half of the chapter written a month ago and I only finished it today. **

**I want to thank my reviewers, alerters, subscribers, and the like and I apologize for the delay.**

**There's a lot more Julian in this chapter and not a lot of everyone else, unfortunately. Then I added two new characters that seem irrelevant, but they have their place in the story. I promise. Also, as I've said in chapters past, I've been hinting at a connection that no one has picked up on yet. Or maybe you have, in which case, kudos. **

**One last thing, I am VEHEMENTLY against author's notes, which is why you'll never see one from me. If it seems like I've disappeared off the face of the earth, I'm still here, trying to upload one chapter at a time. If I have something to say, I'll attempt to get a chapter out so I can say it. I've fallen victim to the false hope of an author's note to a great story one too many times so I won't do that. Without further ado...**

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><p>The banker kept his sight fixed on the moving images of Chicago, his thoughts exceeding the speed of a locomotive. "The IPO is set for roughly ten and a half million. Once Baker &amp; Lerner goes public, we'll reveal the underwriting."<p>

"Remind me, what exactly does the underwriting entail?"

"Adam Patch amassed a small fortune a few decades ago. His grandson Anthony and his wife Gloria have since spiraled into a constant state of drunkenness and destruction. Now, I'm not one to criticize, but there's something in their ignorance and self disillusionment to be pitied. I have no respect for types like Anthony."

"And what type would that be?"

"The aesthetes, the romanticists, and most of all, those that rely on the wealth of others."

The man chucked. "You're Julian Baker. All your wealth came from your father and his father before him and his before his. You come from a legacy."

Julian laughed. "That may be true, but I've expanded it. The wealth my father knew is not the wealth I know today. Rumor is Anthony Patch is waiting for his inheritance. Little does he know that his grandfather had other plans. He wasn't about to waste his fortune on someone who had no initiative. Anyway, the old Patch had his lawyer give full disclosure on his wishes to form a company. Baker & Lerner is going to be the underwriter and I, for one, cannot wait to see the look on Strauss' face at the next cocktail party. The tombstone is going on _The Journal_."

"I admire you, Baker, I really do. My business doesn't see quite as much attention from me as yours does from you. Of course, you don't have a wife yet."

"I have a few things I have to take care of before then. Once I have undertaken all that I wish, I will have all the time for a wife."

The car came to a stop. "I trust that our companies will have no problem doing business with each other." He held out his hand.

"My wife is dying to meet your future one." The man reciprocated the gesture. The mention of the spouses was evidence enough of their financial agreement.

"With the impending engagement, I'm sure the time will come. This tete-a-tete-"

"Is between the both of us. In due time, Baker. Thank you for the ride." The man tipped his hat and buttoned his jacket.

Julian nodded and glanced at his watch. "Charles, take me to Pullman."

For the first time, the driver removed his eyes from the road and shifted his natural spectacles to the mirror with a look laced with skepticism. "Are you sure sir? The neighborhood is not the safest nor-"

"Most fitting? I'm aware. Pullman, that's where I want you to take me."

Charles was a faithful servant of the Baker family and any expressed concern was regarded as both a sign of loyalty and base worry. Whether it was warranted was a different question altogether. Needless to say, indifference would have had his head. "Very well, sir." He was familiar with the streets of Chicago. They were etched in the caresses of his mind and summoned at a moment's notice.

He arrived at the destination with the celerity of a derby horse and the driver waited dutifully by the opened door.

"Sir, should I notify Lerner of your delayed return?"

"That won't be necessary. Just keep the car running."

Baker walked to the small house. It was modest; the tacky pacific blue awning hung above the distressed oak door and the windows had a homely touch. Like the other houses on the block, it was painted white. He made his way to the door and put leather-clad hands to entryway. It took a while, but the woman of the hour made it. "Julian Baker. What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

He smiled. "I've missed you."

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><p>He allowed himself to stop thinking and let nature run its course. And it felt completely unnatural yet so comfortable. His insatiable need for control over his own life was repressed to the point he couldn't recognize himself. Gone were the calculations, the precautions, and the consternations. Emotion triumphed over mind and though it was a fool's path, it was one he would gladly choose again.<p>

He watched as the ink glided seamlessly and was greedily absorbed by the paper. Consumed with thought, he threw the utensil on the table and struggled to break the wall.

"I thought I told you not to get dressed." Her voice cut through the cold New York air with the most soothing ease. In the pale light, she looked nothing short of a Greek goddess. The only difference was the unbuttoned white shirt that hung loosely over her frame in place of an Ionic chiton. The swaying of her hips was exaggerated to torture him, if only for a while.

She took a seat on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. He pulled her closer by the waist. He ran the back of his forefingers along the left side of her jaw line before placing his thumb on her bottom lip. His thumb was soon replaced by his lips. Once the taste of him left her, he stared back into her now dark olive irises; his eyes lined with an animalistic hunger for her. He placed a stretched hand just above her hip and began laying kisses; trailing her neck and stopping short of her breasts. He saw the desperation in her eyes, but only delayed the inevitable. Just to torture her, if only for a while. "I'm only wearing briefs."

"Come back to bed," she whispered huskily in his ear. Self resolve never quite lasted long around her.

"Soon. I just have to get my thoughts down. Then I'm all yours." His voice was uncharacteristically deep, glistened with lust, no doubt. As interesting writing could be, she held him by a string, pulling him in with every word, touch, and move.

She pouted, not that she was disappointed, but because it seemed necessary. Right, even. She inched her hand closer to the black book in an attempt to catch a glimpse of what he was writing.

He stopped her short of reaching those precious pages and brought her hand to his lips. "No," he whispered simply as he looked up at her.

She removed her hand from his and entrapped his face before taking his lips to hers. Taking advantage of his clouded state, she quickly grabbed the book and removed herself from him. He immediately gave chase. "Davis," he warned. The room wasn't the largest so it followed that it was easy for him to catch her, though not before she managed to read a couple lines.

He caught her with one arm and snatched the book. "You're horrible, you know that?"

She shrugged innocently, as if she didn't already know the answer. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He unbuttoned the one thing keeping his shirt from flailing loosely on her body. "Hell, I can't get any writing done with you here."

"Why do you even bother?" she whispered in his ear. She worked her hands down the length of his arms, stalling when she reached his hands. She let them fall before she turned around and left the white shirt as a shapeless pile on the floor.

It was times like these that made him feel the world could end at any moment, with her.

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><p>"James! You're on in fifteen," shouted the man. The club had its fair share of shady clients and the back alley dealings were too many to count. Be that as it may, if the club owner was good for anything, he made sure his girls were treated well. The job was entrusted to Henri. He was a Frenchman, but all he ever knew were the streets of New York. Came to America at the shy age of three and there was no looking back. His parents owned a small boulangerie, where he took in the smells of the freshest croissants every morning. Growing up a baker's boy, he never intended anything different for his life. He married a nice German girl, who remained his wife for an impressive forty-seven years before she left the world. During that time, they failed to have any children, but the bakery took the place of one.<p>

Following her death, days at the boulangerie became long and grim. Then his age let it slip past; the boulangerie became a butcher's shop.

He had a shit ton of respect on the Lower East Side and when word got around that he closed up shop, people _opened_ jobs for him. Little Henri Laroche, the baker's son, turned into old Henri Laroche, a caretaker of sorts. He looked after the girls, made sure none of the clientele tried anything. The singers, cabaret dancers, they all loved him like a father. He went around catering to their needs and always told each one that she was his favorite. Of course, all of them knew of it, but those words were special. The twinkle in his aged eyes was different for every girl.

Then there was Haley, who was truly his favorite. She was as sweet as sugar and never messed around with the clients. She did her job and went home quietly. When she was at the club, she would have those talks with him about anything and one thing became abundantly clear: in that petite, young woman lived an old soul. "Alright, Henri," she shouted back before flashing him a smile.

She never mixed with the cabaret girls. The old soul didn't resonate with them. They took their freedom greedily, appreciating every ounce of wildness to which they felt they were entitled. While Haley preferred a simple life without the frills, they wanted the complete opposite.

Recovering from their latest number, they fell onto their cushioned chairs, retouching their makeup. Haley walked past them to retrieve the bracelet Nathan gave to her when one of the girls spotted it and snickered. The dancers quickly spiraled into one of their whispered conversations. "Heard she's been prancing around with Nathan Scott."

Cut to the girl with the bold red lipstick. "Scott's trouble if you ask me. He's been chasing skirt ever since he was old enough to look at a girl."

Cut to the girl reapplying eyeliner nonchalantly. "I give it a month, maybe less."

The one Irish girl of the group spoke up. "You've got to the give the kid points for trying. I'm feeling a bit hopeful, two months."

Cut back to the girl with the lipstick. "She's pretty, I'll give her that. But what girl of Nathan Scott's isn't. He never keeps them around long enough. Hell, it surprised me when he waited for her."

The blonde, "There's one thing that boy knows better than anything else, it's talking girls to bed and walking them out his door. He's got parents worried so sick that they've locked their daughters up."

The redhead, "Don't forget about that brother of his. Those Scott brothers are no good."

The leader of the group finally opened her mouth. "Poor girl doesn't stand a chance. He's had half of New York and she hasn't got half of anything except a voice."

They were always whisked off into a whirlwind of chatter and more often than not, their whispers were intentionally loud. They didn't need a reason to dislike Haley; they just did. She was never one of them, which was the fault of no one. If a reason was needed, chalk it up to envy. She was too innocent, she was too adored, she was too sweet, she was too damn lucky. Flip a coin, throw a dart, toss a die, you're bound to land on a reason.

She cleared her throat and the cabaret girls turned with such speed that it was as if they never had the conversation. She knew and they knew that she heard clearly. As much as she loved Nathan, what they said was nothing short of the truth. He told her as much, but he also told her that it was in the past.

His words seemed to fail her as her insecurity began to devour the faith she had.

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><p>He brought the cup to his eager lips. "I can't tell you how much I've missed a decent cup of tea."<p>

The woman laughed and took the seat next to him. "You've always been demanding, Julian. And not at all welcoming to change."

"It's hard when you grow up with everything you could ever want. That only means you have a deeper appreciation for the better things in life."

She brought a hand to his face, which he uncharacteristically allowed. "You're all grown up."

He chuckled. "That's what people do. I've been meaning to ask you something."

"Well, what is it dear?"

"Why don't you move back to New York? There's more than enough room for you at the mansion."

"I'm afraid I'm no longer good for any work. I've seen your staff, all strong men and women. They'd only complain that an old woman like me was getting in their way," she half-joked.

"You took care of me growing up and you're more of a parent to me than either of my parents was. It's time I took care of you." He had since enveloped her wrinkled, fragile hands with his, in an intimate embrace. Those moments were rare for someone as calculating and cold as he. Were word to get out, no one would be afraid of him and that, he wouldn't stand for.

She smiled sadly. "I'm proud of you Julian. People tell me you're ruthless and unforgiving, but I tell them the truth: that you're still the sweet Julian I know. You know what?" She gestured for him to come closer. He brought his ear to catch the words falling from her mouth. "I think that the world has grown too cynical to appreciate a boy like you."

He looked at her, unwilling to break her heart. He was used to lying and this one lie was as good as any to keep.

"Anyway, I can't go back to New York. I'm living out my final days here until I can see my Eddie again."

"You don't look a year older than eighteen. You still have a long life ahead of you," he said.

She took his compliment. "You Baker men are all the same. So charming a girl wouldn't be able to resist. You have your eyes set on a girl?"

"Soon-to-be fiancée. We're practically married and I love her more than I thought I could love anyone."

She nodded. "Good. Now you hold on to her. I watched your father grow up too. I watched as he married your mother because his father told him to. Don't let this be another one of those silly business arrangements. Your father doesn't know, but I know about his affairs. I don't approve, but I don't have much pull to say anything. All I want is for you to be happy Julian, as happy as I was with Eddie."

He stared at her hands and was surprised to see how much they had changed. More surprisingly, her hands bore a looking glass into how much he had changed. "I'll see you again. Bye," he replied tersely.

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><p>"I want someone taken care of. He knows too much and I can't have him running around anymore."<p>

"Don't we all? Jesus, Baker, you throw money at us, but we ain't at your beck and call."

"Listen Kelly, I'm not asking here. I'm not one of your fucking lackeys. I want someone killed and if I don't get a call within the next few hours confirming he's dead, you can bet that I'm going to wipe your shitty operation clean."

"No, you listen, you rich twerp. You and me? We're fucking equals. Don't talk to me like I'm one of your whores. I'm a ruthless motherfucker and I sure as hell ain't afraid to get my hands dirty. I've got a lot against you. Me releasing it to the public is just the tip of the iceberg. Speak to me like that again and I'll have your throat slit. I _dare_ your rich friends to try anything after that. We got an understanding?"

Silence came from Baker's end.

"This fucker. What's his name? I'll have my men on it," Kelly finally said.

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><p>The brunette dragged the man by his hair against the naked earth. He bent down and forced the man to look into his cold eyes. "My boss, Kelly, he's got it in for you and if I'm being completely honest, you haven't got much time left. Now as you've already guessed, I'm not here to play around with you." He took a sharp inhale of his cigarette and blew out the toxic smoke, keeping a firm grip on the man's hair. He placed the stick back in the corner of his mouth and looked at the man.<p>

The thing is they've all got that look in their eyes: one part desperation, one part fear, three parts contempt, and one part acceptance. It took a little while to get to the last part, but sure enough it was there every time, no matter how small the glimmer. The desperation, fear, and contempt he could handle. The acceptance was the hard part. Every time he looked into his victim's eyes, it was that look that made him hesitate, the look that could get him killed.

"Guilty," he raised his hand, "I've been sent to kill you. I feel horrible about it, I really do." The man struggled, kicking futilely. He tried to shift his hands, which was bound into a Gordian knot. Redness began to develop on his wrists and that's when the acceptance started to kick in. His whimpers began to die down. No amount of effort was going to get him out. The brunette showed no sign of sympathy and instead, tugged roughly on the man's hair to make sure his point was heard. "I was beginning to feel like we were old chaps. Pity, I hate having to do this, so I'll make it quick. You should feel lucky. I don't just do this for anyone, you know?"

He produced a black handkerchief. "Ah, here we are." He tied it around the man's head, obstructing any line of sight. "This bit's for me. I don't like looking into a man's eyes after he's killed."

He propped him up against the closest tree and stood back. His Derringer was in perfect alignment with the man's head. Just one shot short, one bullet to empty from the chamber.

Then he dropped it and walked back. "Oh come on. When you're thinking so loudly, it makes me feel just a tad remorseful. I told you lad, I don't want to do this. But if someone finds out I haven't gotten the job done, it's my head that's on the line."

His first time was the worst. He killed the man in one clean shot and lost the man he used to be. Nothing robbed him of his innocence quite like that first kill. Guilt consumed him and he questioned whether it was worth it. The sick thing was, as he racked up the kills, it became easier. Each death weighed on him less than the one before it. His joking was a coping mechanism . Twisted, but it worked nonetheless. His hands were already stained red, what was one more?

He lined up the shot again.

The night rang with the sound of thunder and the birds flew in flocks.

They were still stained.

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><p><strong>The change from nice Julian to typical Julian may seem abrupt, but something in his conversation with his nanny triggers it. <strong>

**So here's the part I've been hinting at. The latter half of this story is the connection and I do hope I managed to make it more obvious. If not, the revelation will be mind blowing (again, I hope). Until next time.**


	11. Grey Lynn Park Part I

**And I'm back. I know what I said about updating, but it turns out in my pressure cooker of a school, second term senior year is not such a breeze. As of one week ago, I graduated from high school and what better way to stick it to my school that than to finally update. To make it up to you guys, this is the longest chapter I've written for any story to date.  
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**It's summer and I'd like to say I can update more frequently, but I have to work =(. I'm pretty sure no one likes to work and I should have listened to my family when they told me that school was more fun than work. To those of you who do have a job, I have so much more respect for you.  
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**Now that I'm done with that tangent, I decided a couple of things. School has kept me from getting to know other writers on this site and even though I'm hopping from one pressure cooker to another, I genuinely want to get to know some of you and exchange ideas or whatever. I don't bite, I promise.  
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**I'm normally a stickler for classic literature, but I've been introduced to some contemporary lit so I decided to put a postmodern spin on the intro for this chapter. Maybe it'll work, maybe it won't. Maybe you'll write me off as a pretentious New Yorker or just maybe, your opinion of me will slightly raise. Whatever the case, I hope you enjoy and for those of you that have still hung in there, thank you so much.  
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**One last thing, congrats to Spain on their Euro 2012 win. They deserved it. Without further ado...**

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><p>He'd like to know how he ended up in a room with a beautiful woman and a destructive sadist.<p>

He'd like to know how to escape.

He'd like to know how to walk away from this with his limbs still attached. It wasn't too much to ask, or at least, he didn't think so.

As a writer, he would have welcomed the experience. Every detail of his life was subject to pen and paper and more importantly, he had control of perception. He could claim to be perfectly honest, but the takeaway? No one would ever know the truth because the truth was what he gave them.

Our story starts a little something like this:

_Close your eyes and imagine white. Give me a chance here. I'm not fucking with you and despite my tendency to patronize just about everyone; this is not one of those moments. The only thing you're allowed to assume in this vast expanse of nothingness is that I'm most likely the most arrogant asshole you'll ever have the pleasure of reading about. There are no consistencies in this story, only what I remember. Forget everything about chronology, forget everything about narration. Don't try to understand. Don't try to fit the pieces together._

_Quick! Now imagine black. Are you following? I swear, I'm not patronizing you. This is everything and anything I can hope to describe to you, but I can't. Sometimes words won't suffice. I can imagine your urge to punch me in the face, but unfortunately for you, I'm at arm's length. Maybe someday because I know I deserve it._

_Imagine the world passing by you. Imagine what it's like to stand there and watch as nothing consumes your sight. What's it like? You know, that feeling of frustration? Let me clue you in on something. What you see is you and me and the rest of us. That's us running blind. I'm sure we'd all like to think there's a sense of direction in at least one of us. What we really possess is the ability to appear to have a sense of direction. Some have a better grasp than others._

_Take a second and watch. Just observe and let the calm and the turmoil wash over you._

_There's no coherency in this world. And that's precisely what I want you to realize as you read or skim or whatever it is that you do to this chapter. Debate it. I dare you._

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><p>She made him afraid to admit anything to her because he was afraid the higher ups would catch on and take her away as quickly as they placed him in front of her. He was thinking that maybe he should pick himself up and have his feet carry him to church, make right with God. Maybe then, He wouldn't be inclined to rip the rug from underneath him. It was his fault really; after his parents' death, he didn't have it in him.<p>

He could list a million reasons, but the bottom line was he was doing it for himself. It was for self-preservation. He hated himself for ever letting her get as close as she did, but she did and he couldn't do anything about it. He had to hope that even though he was counting the days, she would stay.

"You're thinking too loudly." A groggy whisper punctured the tired night.

He smirked. "Don't I always?" He brushed her hair back, staring at her flawless face. "You're beautiful."

"Come on writer boy, you're going to have to do better than that," she joked. She had that dangerous glint in her eyes that made him want her even more.

He gave a weak laugh. "What for? I've already got you."

"You really pull out all the stops, don't you?" she said sarcastically.

"I did all the hard work already. It's time I catch a break." He did it to rile her up because he loved when she got angry, or at the very least, irritated. Come to think of it, angry Brooke was one of his favorites. Her lips would form a thin line, her eyes would turn a dangerous shade of green, and her complexion would wear just the tiniest hint of red. Angry Brooke was a vengeful and forceful one. She would use her sex appeal against him, teasing him to the point of desperation. He would never let it show, preferred to act nonchalant, but they both knew how crazy it drove him.

And the makeup sex was fantastic. It was everything about the basic, primal needs of a person. His hunger for her. Her hunger for him. They were never too sure who initiated it, but he swore she always attacked him first. Her story ran a little differently.

There was this one time, in the rough onslaught of kisses, the sometimes drunken tirades, they started breaking things. She ran her hands through his blond hair and was grateful there was something to hold onto. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer than he could get.

She was unpredictable, always keeping him on his toes. He had to replace every single lowball glass he had, a lamp which he needed to throw away, and two perfectly drinkable bottles of scotch, and countless other items that would only anger him in his efforts to remember.

Somewhere in the mess, they were still able to continue in their heated encounter. He met her again and again. He took her as if she were his to take.

Unfortunately, she had him figured out. She wasn't going to give him what he wanted tonight. "Luke." She looked up at him, giving a faint pout. He was doing all he could to not concentrate on the comforter's poor attempt to cover her and to resist the lustful feeling threatening to take hold of him once more.

"My brother would kill me for something this cliché. The guys at O'Halloran's would never look at me the same."

"Your brother's the worst. Haley told me about all the revoltingly romantic things he's done for her. And the guys at O'Halloran's aren't the ones sleeping with me. I'm sure I could change them into the best of writers if I wanted them to. I would love to have a Shakespeare at my beck and call."

His blue irises turned a dark blue. His body suddenly covered hers, pinning her tiny frame under his. "They would be so lucky. You're mine Brooke Davis. Any man down there that doesn't get the message will be sporting a few broken limbs."

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any more romantic." She rolled her eyes. Her head pivoted to the side to see her wrists caught in his hands.

He bent down just short of her neck and began laying kisses between sentences. With each end, he worked his way down, his breath tickling her skin. "Your eyes rival the rays of Apollo in their radiance and capture me in an unbreakable trance. Your dimples could send the whole world crashing down. Your lips house secret talents that only I can hope to unveil. That laugh, God, that laugh sends my ears to a state of bliss and chaos. It makes my heart stop and sometimes I feel like I'm already gone."

He stopped at the valley between her breasts and points his eye upward. Her breath hitched and her eyes were hidden from view. He knew that any moment now, she would release a moan from her tender, red lips. "Your breasts were molded perfectly. In the naked light, I swear I've never seen anything like you. And your ass, well, your ass is pretty great."

She smacked him. "Way to ruin a moment jackass."

He brought himself up so that he was next to her. His hands captured the side of her face. "Pretty girl, I'm tired. I can't think straight. I'm doing my best." His lips took hers in a soft press and allowed them to linger as his forehead leaned against hers. He closed his eyes, hoping it was enough to tell her the words he could never tell her. He never thought it would be this hard to say a four letter word.

His eyelids slowly lowered until he succumbed to slumber.

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><p>Nathan barely managed to open the door before he kicked his shoes off and threw his hat to the side. "Haley. Baby, where are you?" The men at Kelly's found out about Haley a while back and were all baffled at how the womanizer had ever managed to land the sweet girl at the club. All he heard day in and day out were jokes about him; how he was starting to get soft, how he was off becoming more of a girl.<p>

Had someone told him where he'd be now, he'd look at himself in the mirror and wonder where his balls were. If Lucas found out, he would take every chance to make fun of him. Because that's the type of shithead brother he was. They grew up men's men. There were no grand displays of affection. The direct approach was the honest approach. Most people would be surprised how far honesty got them. "You home?"

He opened the door on the left, bringing him to no discovery. Then the one on the left, he found her humming a tune softly, staring outside the window in complete oblivion. He couldn't help but smile and yes, he couldn't help but think that he was starting to turn soft. He tiptoed around the room, careful to avoid the floorboards he knew would give him away. Propping one hand against the wall to support himself, he leaned down and placed a kiss on her head.

Her eyelids fluttered at his touch and the corners of her mouth bend upward. "Hey. You're back early."

"Yea. Kelly told me I could go. What are you doing for the rest of the day?"

She shrugged. "Not much. They don't want me at the club until seven so I've got time to kill."

"Do you want to go out? I know of a couple of restaurants. Val's always happy to see me," he offered. He liked this, with her. There was nothing to think about, no worries. They took everything in stride.

She took his hand and started playing with his fingers. "Why don't we talk?"

The alarms were going off in his head. Talking wasn't good. He wasn't one to talk. Whatever it was that she wanted to say, he didn't want to hear. "Sure." He mentally scolded himself for easily giving into her request. He didn't even put up a fight; he really was losing it.

"Why me? Why do you choose to stay here?" Her face betrayed no signs of anger, hurt, confusion, or sadness. Just pure honesty and curiosity.

He observed every inch of her countenance, hoping for the right answer to appear. "I stay here because I don't want to see my brother having sex with his girlfriend. And because you're not so bad to be around."

She chuckled. "I don't mean here in my apartment. I meant of all the women in the world, what makes me different? I'm not a very exciting girl and I don't live a whirlwind of a life." Still no malice in any of her words and he found himself questioning whether it was the calm before the storm.

"I don't know. I can't really tell you because I haven't figured it out myself. There's this feeling of complete rightness. You know me Haley. I don't think and I'd actually prefer to head into situations with absolutely no preparation. My mind and my gut tell me that I don't want a crazy, unstable woman. That's not what I need. My heart's telling me that I want and need someone who can sit back and enjoy life as it comes. There doesn't need to be a rush or a search. I'd like to tell you why Hales, but I don't have any control over that."

Her lips caught an understanding smile and she looked back at the window, not offering a single response.

He crouched down and placed one hand on her shoulder and held her hand with the other. "Why are you asking me this? Did someone say something?"

"A couple of women mentioned your past love affairs. I just needed a reason for you staying with me and you were honest. That's all I ask. I don't want you staying with me for the wrong reasons. I'm not one for games. Things are simple for me. If you don't like me, then tell me. If you do, then let me know."

"I can't get over how much you're not like other women. This is so great," he gave a deep chuckle, "Give me time. I'll learn."

She nodded. "That's fine. I want something in return."

"What is it?" He didn't care what she wanted. At that point, he would have given her the world if she asked.

"I want you to stop putting me on a pedestal. I'm only human and I'm bound to make mistakes. You have to put me on an equal level Nathan or else this isn't going to work."

"I can't make any promises. I still don't know what I did right."

A pained expression marked her appearance. "Nate, I'm scared of how close we're getting. This isn't supposed to happen so quickly. It took my father years before he could get my mother to say she loved him. I'm not supposed to need you like this Nathan."

His Adam's apple throbbed with the deep release of laughter. "How do you think I feel? I hate being completely helpless. I hate being held to the whims of the world. I'm trying to not mess up and the more I think about it, the more I think my fears will come true. I'm not a stand-up guy. I have no idea how to keep a woman like you so I might come across as overbearing. I'm just trying to figure this out."

"That's funny because I'm trying so hard to not mess this up by doing something stupid."

"Then don't. Stop thinking. Let it sink in."

* * *

><p>Hushes rivaling the softest of lullabies perforated the night. The young blonde patted the girl in her arms gently, every so often running her hand up and down along the length of her back. She didn't want to be strong all the goddamn time. She didn't want to be stuck at home, worried sick over her ill daughter. She didn't want to be alone, least of all when it hit so close to home.<p>

The distinct sound of jingling keys found itself traveling seamlessly through the thin wooden door. He stumbled on his way in, tripping over his own feet. He would have fallen had the wall not offered him support.

"Where have you been?" She couldn't keep the pained tone from her voice. After all, he was supposed to be there with her. He promised this would never happen again; there would be no angry outbursts, no off-key singing in the middle of the night.

A goofy smile painted his face. He was unaware of the dormant volcano waiting to erupt from the blonde. "Peyton, the love of my life." He reached out his arms and bent down to kiss her.

She turned her face away, trying to hold back tears. "Your daughter is sick Jake. You were supposed to be home hours ago with your paycheck so we could go see a doctor. Now you show up in the odd hours of the day, reeking of alcohol. Don't touch me Jake."

"I don't have the answer to you Peyton. I'm the goddamn man of the house and I have the right to do whatever the hell I want. God forbid I have a few drinks after working so hard all the fucking time," he shouted. His inebriated state came with an oblivion and nonchalance toward the sleeping child in his wife's arms.

The blond tried futilely to calm the growingly agitated girl. "See what you did? You woke up your daughter," she hissed, "Come on Jenny. It's okay. Let's get you to bed." She ignored Jake's looming presence. She spent a couple of minutes getting the younger blonde into the small bed they had somehow managed to squeeze into their already small room. After she was met with some success in what seemed like hours, she closed the door behind her and carefully avoided any loose floorboards.

"Your daughter has had a fever for the entire day. Just when we thought it was okay for her to not go see a doctor, her sickness comes back. I've been waiting here, taking care of her as best as I can. I was waiting for you to come back with your week's salary so we can finally see what's wrong. So where the hell is it, Jake? Or is all of it gone?"

He looked to the side, immersing himself in guilt. "I'll figure something out. I have a couple dollars left and I'll just borrow the remainder. It's not a fucking problem."

"It's not a fucking problem? You were an alcoholic a few years ago and it wasn't until Jenny was born that you decided to clean up your act. Don't tell me it's not a problem because it is. You were doing so well and after one night with your buddies, you're turning into the same man you were when I met you."

"Jesus Peyton. Am I not entitled to relax every now and then? Am I supposed to work like a fucking dog and then have to come home to tire myself even more? Jenny's a blessing, but I'm already beat after a long day's work. I can barely bring myself to pick her up. I'm twenty four Peyton. Why can't you see I'm doing my best to be a father? Other men my age don't even have their own shit together." The effects of the alcohol wore off a bit, but they worked their bit as a truth serum. He never would have revealed his frustrations without a little liquid courage to loosen his inhibitions.

"Four years and for what? So you could mess this up again. I was too goddamn young to be raising a child Jake, but here I am barely twenty fucking three. I'm managing, so don't you dare make excuses. Other women are out there living their own lives while I'm stuck in a role meant for twenty years ago." Her voice had died down to a whisper; the diminuendo betrayed her resignation.

"Is that it? You resent me for tying you down? I want to be the man of the family. I'm trying not to become like my father, but I don't have any energy. All my time is spent at work or taking care of Jenny. When am I going to have time for myself?"

"You're not single anymore. You have responsibilities. Having a child requires sacrifice and I've made mine. In a second, you could ruin yours."

His faced turned red and his veins began to bulge out. "I'm making every sacrifice I can, but I'm not fucking perfect. You can't expect me to change in an instant and to tell you the truth, I was dealt with shitty cards. I think I've done a good job of making the most out of them. I don't ask for much. I just need a way to let myself go once in a while. For God's sake, we don't even have sex anymore. Drinking helps me relieve the stress, stress that I would take out on you if I snapped. But I don't want to do that. I don't want to hurt you for something that's not your fault so I drink."

"We don't have sex anymore because the last time we did, I got pregnant. All of this is just a bluff if there's no follow through. I can't handle you being an alcoholic again. I barely handled it last time and it almost destroyed us. This time, there's a kid in the mix. Don't become that man again because I will take Jenny and leave if you do.

* * *

><p>A girl walked into a bar.<p>

A common occurrence really. The time they didn't spend in bed was spent a couple blocks down at O'Halloran's. It wasn't the greatest bar; in fact, it would probably lose by a landslide if it were lined up against the other Irish establishments in the city.

The explanation was simple. There was no other bar that felt like home. There was something different about the lighting and the constant permeation of cigarette smoke wafting through the air. Or it was simply Lucas trying to figure what exactly made him return.

"A martini for the lady," he said as he placed it in front of her from behind. He had to keep himself from laughing at how much it reminded him of the night he met her and how far they had come along since then.

He shook his head as she tipped the glass backwards in that same tauntingly slow manner. "How are you so sexy all of the time?"

"Three parts natural gift, one part learned craft." She began running her foot along his leg, unaffected by her actions. She had no clue how broadcast they were to the rest of the bar's patrons and if she did, she didn't care. "All four parts just for you," she whispered seductively.

He chuckled to mask the fact he was getting aroused, but she knew perfectly well that any attempt was useless. She thought it was kind of cute that he even bothered to try. "I'm sure everyone's getting an eyeful. Now, don't get me wrong. I want every man in this bar to know that you're mine and that I'm good enough to land someone like you," he captured her lips slowly while his forefingers held her chin just barely, "But even I know that a little discretion tends to go a long way."

"Says the man that just kissed me in a crowded bar. Do you know exactly what discretion is? Because that sure as hell wasn't it, _pretty boy_." She ran her fingers along his jaw line, her eyes resting on his now red lips.

"Adapting my nickname for you, are we? That was me staking my claim. You know, for the slow ones that didn't understand right off the bat. And it was a good excuse to kiss you because God knows it's been too long."

She wasn't one to blush or show any signs of girly affection. What she did allow was a small smirk, the one that Lucas had grown accustomed to seeing. He liked that about her; she didn't have to go to any lengths to gain attraction by acting outwardly childlike. She didn't entertain certain men's needs to act as a protector and she certainly didn't try to act cute. "You're impossible."

"I have to be to keep a woman like you. Besides you're not without your own impossibilities."

Before she had a chance to respond, a brunette man of medium height approached her. He cast a brief glance at Lucas, who returned it. "Hey miss. Can I get you a drink?"

She smiled politely. "I have one, but thanks for the offer."

Lucas did nothing to stop him and instead, took a long swig of his beer and watched amusedly. Brooke threw him a few signals to cut in, but he did no such thing.

"Listen, I'll be completely honest. I'm not great at this and it took me several lifetimes of courage just to walk up to you. If you turn me down, that's fine. I just wanted you to know that you are without the most stunning woman I've ever laid my eyes upon and if you decide to go out with me, I'll make it worth your while."

She covered her face from the man's view and made sure her darting eyes were extremely clear to an otherwise occupied Lucas, one who apparently took great joy in seeing her unsuccessfully dodge the man's advances. "Really, thanks for the offer, but I'm going to have to decline. You see, _this_ is my boyfriend and I'm pretty sure that as soon as he's done laughing at some funny joke from days before, he'll want to attack. I'd prefer if no one got hurt."

"Darling, the only person who's going to get hurt is your boyfriend. I mean pretty girl like you, he's got know he's feeding you to the dogs if he's brought you down here. This whole bar wants you and right now, they're all a few beers away from knocking your boyfriend's pretty face to the ground over you."

"And are you? A dog I mean. Because you see me and think I'm helpless, that I'm some poor woman that can't defend herself against the likes of you. You might want to stop talking right now before I send you running with your tail between your legs. As for my boyfriend, well he's more than equipped to take you on in more ways than one." She didn't shout. No, she whispered this threat with the calmest voice known to man and that's why he backed down. Granted, it wasn't with his tail between his legs, but it was still just as satisfying.

Lucas was biting his lip, trying to hold back a fit of giggles. "I have to give him points for effort. And then some for you. Polite's a good color on you until it wears thin."

She shrugged. "All those formal years of training for my final emergence as a debutante counted for something. Sure, I probably wouldn't have thought that I would revert back to character in a dingy bar, but hey it was worth a try. And I should be mad at you. You should have stopped him and said something."

"Don't worry. There's no way I would have been in the least bit worried that Hinds would pick you up."

"You mean you knew him and you didn't say anything?" She was livid, but as ever, concealed it to avoid causing a scene.

He nodded. "You see, Hinds and I aren't exactly the best of friends. In fact, we'd prefer to stay out of each other's way to spare the rest of the world. Either way, I was right. He didn't pick you up and I still have you. What surprises me is that he let off so easily. When he sees a pretty woman, he all but begs and seeing as you're," he motions her with his hand, "you, he would have put in ten times the effort."

She smiled sarcastically. "Thanks for that. Nice to see you're still working the flattery angle. You know, I should be threatening to withhold sex right now."

"Maybe you should and I'll admit, I could do without the torture, but you're going to feel the effects too."

"What makes you think I couldn't find another man?"

He threw back the final contents of his beer and got up. "You could, just like I could find another woman. Thing is, neither of us are going to do that because we're never going to find other people quite like ourselves. Once you've had a taste of the good life, it's that much harder to turn back." He offered her a smile and a hand. "I'm about ready to head back and start our own party. You in?"

She placed her hand in his and unbeknownst to him, her trust as well.

They walked the city streets quietly, her arms wrapped around his. To anyone else, they would have seemed like a couple conquering the world. "This is nice. Not having to worry about anyone and it's a good break from sex."

"Is Lucas Scott saying that walking is better than sex? Am I doing something wrong here?" she joked. She brought herself closer, holding onto his bicep and resting her head on his shoulder.

"I'm saying that this is a refreshing change of pace. Don't get any ideas about the sex. It's perfect the way it is. I like how quiet it is and how there's no pressure to do anything."

She stared down at the pavement. "I know what you mean." She looked up once she realized that Lucas had stopped in his tracks. "What's-"

"Hinds. I knew you wouldn't let up without a fight. I'm not looking for trouble, but I'm not afraid to fight if I have to. You do remember the little incident we had when we were 16 right?"

"Yea. But 16, what was that? Seven years ago? A lot's changed since then."

Lucas shook his head in derision. "No, not really. I mean, you're still the same scumbag you were back then. Your only redeemable trait is that you had the sense to stay away. If you're smart, you'll keep doing the same."

"There's just one thing. I've got my eye out for this pretty lady you got right here and I might have let that black kid go all those years ago, but I'm not letting her out of my sight. Here's another thing that's changed. You see these men behind me? They've grown quite a bit since our fighting days. Still think you can take them?"

"Nice to see they haven't grown half a brain to realize what a jerk you are. I can take them. Leave the girl out of this and I'll show you how well I can take them." One of the men snarled at the attack on his manhood. Hinds held him back with a hand.

"You're not in a position to negotiate. And I would let you take them. Only problem is that these men who don't have half a brain? There are others too."

A pair of men came from behind and tried to tie them. They had managed with Brooke, but not before she had delivered a kick to her captor's foot and knee to his groin.

They had a bit more trouble with Lucas, who was trying his best not to be subdued. He managed a few punches, even knocked out one. Hinds was right in the end. He could hold his own, but he wasn't freaking Spartacus. A man had his limits and his were the men in front of him. Hinds sneaked in a dirty punch right before a black cloth was lowered and covered everything in sight. It didn't matter the size of the dog in the fight, there was no fight left in the dog.

* * *

><p><strong>I kind of have a lot to say. Forgive me because this would have all gone in the author's note if I believed in one. First of all, I thought about giving you a Brucas sex scene, but I figured it would be so much more significant if he just slept. In the earlier chapters, I mentioned how he was haunted every night and suffered from insomnia. By giving the poor guy the rest he deserves, I felt it spoke volumes about their relationship and the breakthrough it made. So sorry to disappoint anyone expecting some raunchy scene. <strong>

**Secondly, this is an AU so the characters are going to be a little different. Jake happens to be an alcoholic (or former that is). That one night at the bar brought back his demons and Jeyton's going to have to deal with it. It wasn't an uncommon problem then and I'm sure it isn't now. I'm not trying to justify it in any way, but rather trying to shed some light on the problem.  
><strong>

**Lastly, I mentioned Hinds briefly in chapter two and he's made a comeback here. I'm the farthest thing from a racist and any remark he makes is a reflection of his personality and the times the characters live in. So don't send me angry messages accusing me of being a racist because it's all for storytelling purposes and I don't agree with it at all. Until next time.  
><strong>


	12. Grey Lynn Park Part II

**I've been waiting for this chapter for quite some time and the story summary says it all, "moral ambiguity." Every personality is a toss up at this point and no one is going to be either good or bad. Everyone is starting to stray into a morally gray area. I was going to put it off until three chapters later, but I thought "What the hell?"**

**I admit that this was a little difficult to write since I was down for a while and I was worried about how the chapter would be received. I'll let you guys decide on that so without further ado.**

* * *

><p>"What the fuck Hinds? Woman has a boyfriend and doesn't want to be bothered. What part of your brain registers that it's okay to kidnap them both? Are you out of your fucking mind or are you too thick to understand a rejection?"<p>

"Nice to see you still got a mouth on you. Life has been great without you around, but what kind of man would I be if I didn't get revenge for what you did to me all those years ago?"

"A man would let it go and see that what you did was wrong. You're still a boy Hinds. You've got a long way to get to the big leagues." Lucas was met with a hard jab from the right. Not that it bothered him of course. He knew what Hinds wanted- satisfaction. He wasn't about to admit his pain and give the fucker the victory he desperately yearned for. It helped that he was a hell of an asshole when he wanted to be. "You can't even face me in a fair fight. The only way you can get in a punch is when I'm tied up like I am now."

Hinds rolled up his sleeves before he kneeled down. His elbows rested casually on his thighs while his hands hung loosely. "You know something Scott? I think I'm doing you a favor. You think looking out for that kid at the club is a good choice? I know a ton of people waiting to get their hands on you. I'm going to teach you a lesson. Those other people wouldn't be so kind. And since we're here, I should let you know that a guy like you doesn't deserve to be with a woman like that."

He got up and sauntered over to Brooke. She was shooting him glares emblazoned with the deadliest of flames. "I'm going to teach you how a real man makes love. When I'm done with you, Scott's gonna be old news."

"Don't touch her you jackass," Lucas snarled. It took two men to hold him down. He was like a Rottweiler rattling an unwanted cage; the inexorable feeling of entrapment washed over him as a tsunami's waves would hug the shore- violently and inconsiderately.

Brooke turned her head at Hinds' touch. "I know some people say size doesn't matter, but I'm not one for balls the size of raisins. A girl has to have her limits, right?"

"What's your name sweetheart?" Hinds feigned sweetness with all the believability exuded by an unseasoned actor.

Lucas yelled, "Not interested." His face was quickly introduced to a swift cut. At this rate, he would become well acquainted with the goon's fists by the end of the night. Funny thing was that the blond was never one for making new friends.

"Your boyfriend's not making it any easier on either of you. I want you to listen carefully darling. I was the perfect gentleman when I walked up to you. Clearly, we have to reach the same page on your manners. I love pretty women, but I don't care for a mouth like yours unless it's put to _better_ use." One of his henchmen tossed him a Louisville. "I'm feeling a bit generous. Every man does when an attractive lady's around so I'll strike you a deal. I'll ask you to go out with me and stay for breakfast. You say yes, I'll let you and pretty boy go."

"Not a chance in hell. Go fuck yourself Hinds." Lucas rocked his chair with as much movement as the ropes would allow him.

Hinds signaled to another man. The stocky fella rammed a dirty cloth into Lucas' mouth. "You say no, your boyfriend meets the end of the barrel. For every no I get, the blond receives another hit. I can go on all night in _more ways than one_," he mocked her earlier words.

Brooke could no longer hide behind her smart comments. Her eyes shifted uneasily between Lucas and Hinds. One night and Lucas would walk away unharmed. Just one night.

"Why don't I give you a preview?" Hinds walked smugly over to Lucas, the end of the bat rested on his shoulder as his left hand swung freely. He pretended to inspect the blond's face, turning it by the chin left and right. He stepped back, lined up his feet, and prepared the hit. Shame he wasn't a baseball player; he had the perfect stance.

"No!" Brooke screamed. Tears of anguish and fear came rushing over her appearance.

Hinds smiled. "You're learning well," he said before connecting the barrel with Lucas' stomach.

He wouldn't allow himself to make a single sound. Not as the air left him. Not as his head screamed in protest. Not as he felt its impact touch all parts of him. His knees would have buckled if only the chair underneath him would give way. He received the hit with reluctance and in return, the primitive animal inside him was released with unbridled willingness. This was the kind of thing he wrote about, but never actually experienced. As God would will it, he finally knew what it was like for a human to be left to his own devices and to be governed by complete chaos.

"I'm so sorry Lucas," she sobbed incoherently.

Lucas tried to protest, but any sound he made was muffled by the oiled rag. The suffocating taste of petroleum was seeping its way to the back of his throat. The cloth was pushed so far back that coughing proved to be impossible.

"Will you go out with me?" Hinds asked.

"Yes," she whispered defeatedly.

Hinds furrowed his eyebrows. "I didn't catch that."

"I said yes, you bastard." She spit in his face.

Hinds only chuckled. He produced a handkerchief and wiped the offending fluid. "For that, Scott here gets another treat." His smile turned into a grave line. His might was drawn clearly on the contours of his face. He swung once more, holding back nothing. The room housed the most sickening crack of the bat. "You work by the docks, don't you? I know you're a righty, but lifting things has got to be difficult even if your left hand is injured. You should be happy that I'm not the worst son of a bitch."

The blond's head hung, not as a final acceptance of his roaring body, but at his inability to control. The one thing he sought for in this world was ripped from his grasp without thought. The tides were beginning to turn inside him and what was once held together by a measly string finally snapped.

* * *

><p>Any change of salvaging the night was shot to hell. She helped him back to the apartment. He didn't betray a single word along the way.<p>

She sat him down at the table. "Let me take a look at your arm."

"You never should have said yes," he muttered.

Despite her best attempts at masking herself, the bags under her eyes came into view. Her face displayed a dejectedness only the hopeless could wear. From her lips came a scoff. "And what? Watch as he beat you within an inch of your life? I'm not a masochist Lucas. Is it so hard to see that I did it for you?"

His eyes narrowed at her. "Isn't it enough that I share you with another man? The thought of him touching you, holding you, and kissing you on the secret parts of your body. It makes me fucking sick. You don't feel the rising feeling in my stomach. You can't begin to understand how angry I am."

"What makes you think that I want to do any of that with him? I didn't ask for this. It's not my fault and it's not yours. He's a sick man. The only person to blame is him. You're not the one that has to lie in bed while he violates you. I am! I made my choice, Lucas, to save you. So don't for a second think that I wanted any of this."

He sat there silently, basking in pure hatred. His body hosted the very definition of hell. "I'm going to fucking kill him. I will. I'm going to kill him. He thinks that there's pleasure in this world. I'll show him what it's like to know pain."

"Lucas stop. This is insane."

"What's insane?" a chipper Nathan asked. His emotion died down immensely when he sensed the tension in the room. "Someone die in here?"

"No, but someone's going to," Lucas announced with finality.

Brooke appealed to Nathan, abandoning any pride that prevented her from begging. "You have to calm him down. He says he wants to kill Hinds and I don't want him to do anything stupid."

The brunette sighed. If his brother wanted to do something as impulsive as killing, he had to have a good reason. Nathan didn't need a reason to have his brother's back. When the petite woman grabbed at his arm, he felt nothing. He had no inclination to help her. However, Haley had touched something and that was the part that nagged at him to do something, no matter how disagreeable it was. "Tell me what happened."

Lucas spoke up. "I'll tell you what happened. That cocksucker Hinds hits on Brooke. She rejects him and he goes to kidnapping the both of us. He forces her into sleeping with him so that he can spare my life."

"Is this true?" Nathan looked to Brooke for confirmation. She gave no movement, but it was all the answer he needed. "He hurt you?"

"I took a slugger to my stomach and arm. Might be broken. You're either with me or you're not. I'm going to do it no matter what. There's no way I'm letting that scumbag touch her."

Nathan gave Brooke a brief glance before resting his determined eyes on Lucas. "I'm in. I'll get a couple of men to pay Hinds a visit. Can't guarantee he'll have a pulse left in him though."

Brooke's eyes widened. "Stop this Lucas. This is a human life we're talking about. I don't want to sleep with him, but I also don't want you to throw your life away over someone like him. I'll do it and we won't speak of it ever again." Her eyes glistened over in a last ditch attempt to calm her lover. "Luke please."

"Give me the last hit. Do whatever, but I want to deliver the final hit." All reason left him. His mind was focused on a single degenerating act of sin. He no longer questioned why Nathan of all people would have the power to decide men's fate. Nor did he care if Nathan had ever exercised such a power. For all he knew, Nathan was exaggerating to look tougher than he really was. He knew that he needed it, if only for this one time. And as Brooke had so easily said that they wouldn't ever speak of it again, he thought he would easily forget it. Because he didn't know what it was like to look into a man's eyes and take the sacred breath from him.

"Listen to me Lucas, you're not that man. You can't take away a human life. This isn't the man I know," she pleaded. Her hands grasped his scruffy face.

"What the hell do you want me to do? I'm sick of people stepping all over me. I have to draw the line somewhere." It broke her heart to see the man in front of her so crestfallen. It made her realize how powerless humans were, bending to the whims of those above.

Nathan offered his input, throwing Brooke a bone. "We don't have to kill the guy, but we could teach him a lesson. Just like we used to in the old days Luke. Hinds doesn't look like the type to handle a fight well and he's the most shameless coward I know. Give him a couple of punches and he'll forget the entire thing. What do you say?"

"I need a breather." Brooke extended her hand, hoping to catch his fleeting form. He shrugged off her touch. "Don't. Not right now Brooke."

She sighed, letting Lucas walk out without protest. "Thanks Nate."

He threw himself onto a chair. "Don't thank me. If I were in his shoes, I wouldn't have given it a second thought. He's my brother though. He doesn't have it in him to kill a man. I don't want him to know what it's like, but sometimes, it's best to let a man do what he has to."

* * *

><p>The pain began to die down as he traversed quietly. He walked aimlessly; he hadn't a care if he got lost because it wouldn't have made a difference. Then again, he knew these streets like the back of his hand. Lost would never be lost enough. The writer wanted to run and become familiarized with the world in a way only a writer would appreciate.<p>

Hinds might have given his best shot, but he wasn't capable of inflicting much harm. He talked a big game; that was as sure as the sky was blue.

The stuffy scent of summer had eased into a comfortable chill, taking his anger with it. His feet grew weak with fatigue. There was no desire to keep moving and unlike a true New Yorker, he stopped. The world was bustling around him, but he stopped in front of the one place that used to be home. Now, it was just the local grocer's, a place visited out of necessity.

Coincidence might have been a fair word, though he refused to accept it. There was someone sardonically laughing at the tricks dealt unto the blond. There was someone upstairs messing with his life. He stood and stared blankly at the cheesy script lettering. _"Lou's"_ Fucking Lou's with the wheels of Asiago adorning the storefront. Fucking Lou's with the hanging Auricchio and salami. Fucking Lou's that managed to remain a perfectly chilled temperature year round, even in this hellish New York July.

Don't mistake this for malice. Lou's was a place to be loved-after all, it did provide him with sustenance. At any time, under any other circumstance, Lou's wouldn't be regarded as _fucking Lou's_. It would just roll off the tongue as _Lou's_. But this wasn't any time or any other circumstance. So, with the slightest affection, it would temporarily be called Fucking Lou's.

"Hey Lou."

The husky man gave a throaty chuckle. "The good Scott brother. Haven't seen you around lately."

The blond's shoulders bobbed like a buoy, defenseless in an unpredictable ocean. "I've been causing trouble around these parts. Hey, you think I can get some ice for my arm? I'd really appreciate it."

"Hold on a second." He left his counter, the safe retreat in his small establishment. Moments later, he returned with a bag of the cool reliever, truly a godsend to the ailing writer.

"Looks bruised pretty badly. Remember getting into fights when I was young," the Venetian thought nostalgically, "Almost always over a girl too. Something tells me you're not so different."

The younger man allowed a dejected smile, one robbed of the very thing it was supposed to show- happiness. "You could say that. I didn't come here to talk about that."

Lou held up his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. Help me close up shop. I'm tired anyway. I've got some cicchetti and ombra for you to sample."

To this, Lucas gave a genuine smile. "And they say there's no free lunch. I know what you're doing Lou. You're liquoring me up so the words flow as freely as the alcohol. I'm no lightweight and I'm not some girl that will go weak at the sight of a handsome devil such as yourself."

It was easy to see why Lucas was the favorite Scott brother. For one, he didn't try anything on Lou's daughter. Nathan narrowly escaped the ire of the Italian, but that's a story for another time and for a willing crowd. The young writer was always buttering Lou left and right. He was an old man who craved the validation. It took only a few seconds to say something to make his day. Then there were the manners. Lou was a man of the last generation. He was taught to respect people and he expected the same. Reading people was an art, but one that could be learned quickly as long as one took the time to observe.

Lou tossed Lucas his set of keys. The latter caught it easily even with an injured left arm, but its weight brought his hand down on impact. "You lock up, I'll get the food."

The writer worked the lock briefly before it clicked in agreement. He strolled over to the octagon table, where his bag of ice was forming a puddle.

"Alright, I have some baccala mantecato, folpeti consi, and some prosciutto with crostini. This is the good stuff, old recipes from Venezia. In bella Venezia, I would spend entire days doing the giro d'ombra, chasing women," he sighed contently, "In America, everyone's in a hurry. Nothing but hard work and for what? Making money. No, Lucas. I tell you how us Venezianos live. Family, good food, good wine, good weather. That's it." He brought his fingers to his puckered lips and imitated an explosion upon contact in that stereotypically Italian hand gesture type of way.

"Not all of have the pleasure, Lou," Lucas laughed as he popped the crostini into his mouth. "How's Caterina?"

Lou shook his head and released a breath. "It's a full time job beating the boys off her. They're up to no good. What she needs is to find a man like you. You, how do they say? Uhh, hmmm, yes, you have a good head on your shoulders. If you hadn't been with Francesca, you would have been my first choice for Caterina. Still, Francesca's like a daughter to me and that's enough."

Another polite chuckle exited the blond in a sonorous echo. "You're being too nice to me, Lou. Be careful." Truth be told, he was a bit uncomfortable with the subject matter. His face was a tell-all. Thankfully, he didn't play much poker; his bluffs wouldn't be of much worth.

The Italian remained unaware, continuing on his whirlwind of conversation. "You know, you and Frankie made a good couple. Shame you two parted ways. She's a singer in Jersey now. I always tell her to come visit, but she says she's too busy. Have you talked to her?"

Lucas glanced at the ground awkwardly. "We haven't spoken to each other in years. She was always going off about being a singer. Had a hell of a voice on her too. Good for her. I'm glad."

Lou nodded. "An old man knows how to take a hint. What about now? She pretty?"

"Who?" Lucas asked.

"Bella donna, si? No man would bruise like that for any woman. Bring her around. I'll feed her well."

The corners of the writer's mouth turned. "You're a shark Lou. One taste of your cicchetti and I'd lose my woman. I'm not falling for that trick."

The deli owner threw back his head in laughter. "You give me too much credit. It's been too long since we did this Lucas. You should come by more often, my doors are always open to you."

"I'll keep that in mind. Listen Lou, you're right. Maybe some food and wine is the best thing for the soul and for that, grazie. I needed it, but we should call it a night."

"Alright, alright. My wife is going to scold me for coming home late and I have to clear the boys waiting on my doorstep. Ciao."

Lucas waved with two fingers. "The back door's on the right?"

One last laugh exited Lou's mouth for the night. "You should know better than me."

* * *

><p>He returned to his apartment with an eased mind, free of the murderous thoughts that occupied him before.<p>

The brunette was waiting on his couch, itching to bite her fingers. She never would though because she was harshly critical of the habit and because she always kept her word. Still, it was written on her face. It was almost as apparent as the distress.

For once, the guilt bubbling away was a welcome feeling. It reassured him that his emotions were in check. "I'm back."

She didn't respond, only looked at him with sleepy eyes.

He sat down next to her, wincing at his failure to realize how fast he had lowered his arm with him. "I was stupid. I'm not going to kill Hinds. And just like with everyone I know, you told me so. I will promise you though, there's no way Hinds is touching one hair on your body. He's not even going to walk within a mile in your direction."

"Don't do anything stupid. You had me worried the entire night and it felt awful. I don't want to imagine how it's going to feel if it lasts longer than this."

He laughed humorlessly. "I won't. I'll do the second smartest thing I've ever done."

She pressed her lips to his with a gentleness rare to them. "Let me get you bandaged up. Afterwards, I just want to lay in bed with you."

"Okay." He'd sooner shoot himself than reveal the smartest thing he'd done in his twenty-three years. He had known immeasurable pain, pain beyond his years. The smartest thing had inflicted a pain on a far grander scale than anything he had ever experienced. That's why he would never admit it. Because it would make everything **real** and he would grasp the true meaning of paradox. At his core, he was a masochist. But is there truly anyone who isn't?

* * *

><p>The brunette rubbed his jaw in contemplation. "How do you want to do this?"<p>

"I want it to be over fast, but I want him to know to stay the hell away from me if he's smart."

"You sure you don't want to make it slow for him? We can always do that. A few men were injured trying to get him alone. The bastard deserves it."

The other man answered with a conviction so alarmingly uncharacteristic even when bent over the edge. "No. Beat him until I'm ready."

"And you're sure you don't want to step outside?"

He looked at the man tied in the chair. "Positive. I'm going to watch."

The brunette shrugged. "Alright," he said hesitantly as he brought his fists in front of him like a regular boxer. He was stopped just as he was gearing for the first punch. "What is it now?"

"Use this," the man handed him a Louisville with his right hand. "I'm returning the favor."

He didn't complain nor did he protest. He was only there to do the bidding and frankly, he enjoyed the violent releases gifted to him. "It's your call," he muttered as he swung. It was sick, he knew. There was something about delivering to the owed and the man on the receiving end was definitely someone owed his current treatment.

The blond observed with a stoic face. His expression was unchanged as barrel met limb, again and again. He ignored the groveling, the begging to be released. He ignored the promise to never touch her. Not once did he turn away. Where the sight of blood once brought sickness, now he couldn't stop staring. Each hit quenched the monstrous flame inhabiting his body. His anger knew no bounds.

The blood trickling from the man's mouth was gold to the man out for the very thing. "Stop. Give me the bat."

He caught the wooden handle seamlessly. The pain shooting through his left arm as he raised it was a trivial matter now as he paid the bastard's arm the same respect.

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><p><strong>Before anyone decides that Lucas' change was abrupt, allow me to argue my case. This isn't something that has happened all of a sudden. This pent up anger has been twenty-three years in the making and for anyone that has read the past chapters, I hope that that moment where Lucas snaps is understandable. Feel free to look back, I've been hinting at the buildup. That is not to say that Lucas will now go on a raging spree, beating up anyone who threatens him. <strong>

**Second thing, I've mentioned before that even the minor characters aren't so minor in this story. Everyone is interconnected so if I threw out a name briefly, you can guarantee that they'll make a longer, more important appearance later on. So a little bit about Lucas' past is revealed. Feel free to throw your guesses at me about his past, the killer (who none of you have guessed correctly yet), or whatever.  
><strong>

**Thirdly, the most important thing I feel, because it really has to do with my writing. It's about the sex scenes, or lack thereof. Sure, there will be sex scenes here and there (stay tuned), but they won't be a major feature. I want the main focus to be the plot line. I strongly believe that writing should be able to stand alone without relying on a single element. I'm not looking to write erotica or 50 Shades of Grey type of material here. I'm not going to bother trying to write material that I haven't read because it's unfair for me to attack a genre I'm not familiar with. It hurts not only me, but the readers' eyes as well, because let's face it, reading my attempt at erotica would be an experience we'd best avoid. **

**I'm the kind of person who writes what I know and what I read. That's one thing you can be sure of. The only reason I'm addressing this is that a review favored sex over the symbolism I went for. I'm not saying that I disagree because I think I need to put a little more sex in this too. I just want you to know that I will take this into consideration. In fact I already did and I hope you'll be quite pleased with an upcoming chapter.  
><strong>

**And lastly to Alysef, thank you for your incredibly kind review. I only wish I could be the kind of writer you make me out to be. What probably is the case is that I'm faking it well. But again, thanks. **

**Any review is well appreciated and I can't stress that enough. Until next time.  
><strong>


	13. Wake Up

**I'm back and probably not for long unfortunately. I've been busy and a little depressed as of late, but such is life. I've tried to sit myself down a couple of times to finish this chapter, but failed since it wasn't coming from a genuine place. Until today. It's like I forgot how much I love writing. So... not much to say about this update, only that there's a new character. The rest is an experience for yourselves and I hope you enjoy.**

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><p>"My, my. Is that remorse I'm sensing?"<p>

Lucas looked up from his paper. "Nathan. It's been a long time since I've had the pleasure of waking up to your smart ass remarks."

"You know me, never let anyone get too comfortable," the snarky brunette bit back. "The other night wasn't you Luke. I'm not saying that Hinds didn't deserve it because he did and maybe even more. What I know is that even though women are the Scotts' greatest weakness, you're too rational. I'll give you the fact he had the balls to even suggest sleeping with Brooke, but watching as the guy get hit over and over again? You're a man out for blood, but you're not like that."

"I don't even know who I am anymore. Let me know when you find out." He downed his cup of Joe and stood up.

Nathan caught his brother's arm as he walked by. "We all have a free pass to do something crazy. God might have given you two seeing as you've done right by him all your life, taking the hardships He's placed on your shoulders like a man. Don't lose faith yet, there's plenty of people counting on you. I've made too many mistakes so another one won't change anything. My pass has been shredded and thrown like yesterday's paper. You still have one left."

"It was once. I was just so mad I couldn't think, but the important thing is that Brooke got off the hook."

"She did. If Hinds knows what's good for him, he'll back off. Where is the damsel in distress?"

"She's in my bed and don't let her hear you say that. She will kick your ass," he whispered.

"I wouldn't expect anything less. You off to work?"

Lucas looked at his sleeve colored arm. "It's better now, though that asshole Elsner is going to chip off a part of my pay. I'll keep it out of his sight. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Unless this heat gets any worse. Then I might hurt him."

"Luke," the gangster warned.

The blond laughed it off. "Relax. I was joking. I have to get to the docks by six. Make sure you take care of my girl, yes?"

"So I do all the hard work and you get to come home to a willing woman?"

"Maybe you do know me, you little fucker." Lucas chuckled and rubbed the top of the brunette's head with his knuckles.

Nathan pushed him off. "Yea, yea. Shut your mouth and keep walking asshole."

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><p>He ignored the nagging ache in his arm as he tossed another crate over his shoulder.<p>

"You alright man?"

Lucas labored to turn his head. "Yea, I'm okay. How's Jenny?"

The other man sighed. "She's hanging in there. I need to get her to a doctor tonight," he trailed off.

The blond stopped in his tracks and laid down the burden. "What is it? Spit it out Jake."

"You've done a lot for me Luke and I appreciate it. If you say no, it's fine. It's just… I don't have the money right now and she's getting worse by the minute. You think you could maybe lend me a few dollars. I'll pay you back on Friday."

"I would Jake, but I've been out for a couple of days so Elsner's docking my pay. My hands are tied. I'm really sorry." He wished he felt the slightest bit guiltier for not helping an ailing child, though any more sympathy given on his part would have been fake. The only person anyone could look out for was himself. Then came everyone else- of course, chosen as one pleased. To do otherwise was an invitation to get eaten alive in this city.

"I understand. Thanks." It would have been fucking cliché if Jake had hung his head in defeat. That wasn't the type of man Jake was or at least, the man he had grown to become. If it would take him selling himself into servitude for a single doctor's visit, he would gladly do it in a heartbeat.

But what did it mean to be human without morality? Surely, endless suffering didn't make the gears that kept the world spinning. "Jake. I'll ask Nathan. Swing by tonight and I'll see what I can manage. No promises."

The brunette's mouth widened into a grateful smile and he practically threw himself onto the writer. "Thank you. Thank you so much Luke."

Before Jake could pull away, Lucas balled the man's shirt in his fist. "I'm not stupid Jake. Peyton came to me the other day and told me to back off and stop drinking with you. I took you out to O'Hallorans once. Once, okay? I've bailed you out more times than I can count, but who's counting right? Don't toss your money away for a glass of cheap scotch when you need it for your sick daughter. And just so you know, I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it for that little girl." He patted the brunette's back firmly as if that very gesture meant things were okay and that he hadn't played hardball moments before.

Like any exchange between good men, the understanding went unspoken.

"Scott. Keep your hands off my employees. No one wants a fight," Elsner shouted.

A scoff escaped his mouth involuntarily. In all fairness, it was begging to be released. "Elsner, no one's looking for a fight, but you've got it out for me since day one. Maybe it's you who wants to fight." Save for his throbbing right fist, he was on the front line of battle. If that cocksucker wanted trouble, then he would get it in full. Was it the adrenaline pumping through his veins? Possibly. Was it against everything he was? Perhaps. Was it worth it? No question; hell fucking yes.

He would be out a job and the woman that he wanted to disappear with would be gone in a matter of days. They had agreed it was a test run yes, but after those two weeks passed, their relationship would be irrevocably different. He would never be satisfied with her fitting him in whenever. He would always want more.

Guy like him might get a free pass from God, but it would always mean he was shit out of luck. There's always a price. The only catch was that the lucky ones got to choose.

"Listen boy. Mouth off to me one more time and you can be sure Friday will be your last payday." The little shit was pointing his clipboard in that insufferable accusatory manner.

A firm hand held him back by the chest. "I'm not going to do anything stupid. That means I'm not letting you do anything stupid either. Walk away Luke."

The blond's chest heaved, his breaths were clockwork. His lips kept its line and he picked up the crate. Gone was the small pain in his arm. Once again, he was holding a pair in a table of full houses. He answered to Elsner's money alone and at the end of the day, that's all it was about.

* * *

><p>"I hate this," the pianist whispered.<p>

The blonde chuckled, caressing her lover's face tenderly. "I know. I hate it too, but my parents are home and your apartment has three other men."

He stared at her eyes as if they housed all the answers to the world. "I wish we could go out in the open like any other couple. Hell, I'd settle for holding your hand in the street without having the city threatening to kill me. But you, you're killing me. There's only so much a guy can take."

"I'm doing this for your safety. After what happened at the bar last time, I'm never going to risk that again. I've been thinking. Why don't we come clean to my parents?"

He furrowed his brows and backed up. His hands had since dropped to his sides. "No. That's a bad idea."

She ran her hands down her dress, smoothing out the creases he made. "Come on Skills. We can tell them. They love me and they'll love you." She reached for him, but somehow her hands never met his body.

"Bevin, you can't be serious. Have you seen us? Your parents would hunt me down if they knew I was with you."

"We could run away. Play out the rest of our days without a single care. You'll play the ivory keys, I'll lay in bed admiring you. Maybe we'll move to a place that's hot all year round. I could wear less clothes."

He looked off to the side and for a moment, wished that he had hair to run his fingers through. "That's wishful thinking. I haven't got a couple of dollars in my pocket most nights and I'm lucky I even got a job at the club. People look at me and the first thing they do is turn me away from their door. We wouldn't last two seconds out there."

"I've been saving up some money. It's not much, but it'll get us on our feet. Whatever we don't have, we'll make up. It's better than hiding out in an alley to see each other."

He released a bitter laugh. "No one's going to hire me Bev. I can fault those racist bastards as much as I want, but I need them to put a roof over my head. I'm just taking what I can."

She shrugged and she looked nothing short of an innocent child. "It's just a dream. That's all." She was dense and this description was being kind. Sure she didn't understand a whole lot, but maybe that was the great thing about life. Ignorance was bliss. Dreaming might have been for the idealists, but it made for a happier world. She wasn't wasting away at home, thinking about the impossibilities. Everything seemed much simpler to her. Either black or white.

"You can't possibly be that stupid," he blurted. As soon as the words left him, he tried desperately to catch them, hoped even that they wouldn't touch her ears.

Her eyes were glazed over like grass that had been kissed by the morning dew. Her dress spun in a hasty exit from the darkness, concealing and unspeakable in nature, to the light, the grandiose and admired attribute of natural things.

He grabbed her wrists and pulled her back. "I'm sorry Bevin. I didn't mean it." He sighed and wished on the stars that his life were a different one. "Someday Bevin. It doesn't seem like a possibility for miles on sight, but we'll get there."

Chances were she was going to get married off to some stiff that wasn't him. He'd marry a woman he wouldn't bring himself to love as much. It was a great deal easier to not expect anything. And the things that turn out in favor, well that was just pleasant surprise.

* * *

><p>The bell signaled the entrance of another customer. The burly Italian still had his back to the counter as he took his time stocking the boxes of Camels and Lucky Strikes on the wall.<p>

He hadn't taken notice of her appearance just yet. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Save a box of Lucky's for me, will you?"

"Sure thing miss." He placed the last of the cigarettes on the shelves and withheld the prized Lucky's. He spun around and handed the box to the woman. "Oh mio dio!" The old man's smile lit up the room. He dropped the cigarettes and practically threw up the counter.

The brunette grinned and outstretched her arms to receive Lou. "Zio. It's been a long time."

They still held each other in their arms. As he laughed, she felt every tremor. "You're telling me. You look different," he said after they parted.

She chuckled and ran her fingers through her trimmed locks. "It's probably the hair," she waved off.

"No, you've gotten more beautiful. Come, come." He ushered her toward the empty table. "How's Jersey? Did you eat enough?"

"Jersey was fun," she hesitated, "But New York's home. There are just some things I can't find in Jersey. And yes zio, I did eat."

"Don't lie to me Francesca. You look thinner. Well it looks like I'm going to have to close up shop earlier today. Between you and me, your aunt will kill me if she finds out that I didn't bring you to her right away," he whispered to her as if speaking any louder would alert his wife, "What am I doing? Let me get a bottle of Prosecco."

"No, no. I'm not going to be staying too long," she protested.

Lou sat back down, using the table to steady himself in his descent. "Alright. My mouth itches when it doesn't touch alcohol for too long. It's a habit I should kick," he seemed to tell himself, "You wouldn't believe who came down the other day. That Scott boy, Luca. Still as handsome as ever and still has enough good sense not to go after Caterina. His fratello on the other hand."

She smiled sadly. "That's nice. Zio, if this is your subtle way of talking about something I don't want to talk about, it's not working."

The man pursed his lips and sighed. "I know your father hasn't always been there for you since your mother died. I'm not going to lie; I'm disappointed in mio fratello, but he's family to the both of us. Now I've been taking care of you for as long as I can remember. Hell, you're still my bambina. And if there's one thing I can tell, it's that look in your eyes. Be careful with Luca okay? He's not the same."

"Zio, my coming back to New York has nothing to do with that. I missed my family and my home. I've done okay with singing in Jersey, but New York's where it matters. I need to make it here." She might have carried a torch for the blond writer, but it was true. Moving back to New York was a career choice first. It wouldn't have been a complete lie if she said she was beginning to miss hanging around Lou's and taking long strolls in the night. Starting in Jersey was daunting; there was no one there to help her on her way, only a couple of girlfriends who worked odd jobs in Atlantic City. A couple of her gigs were thanks to those same girlfriends.

It wouldn't be fair to call her famous, but it was safe to say that she made quite a name for herself in a few areas. But Jersey wasn't going to make her big, no. That she would leave to New York. After all, if she made it here, she'd make it anywhere.

Lucas was an extremely small factor and it had been years since either of them spoke, let alone met. They were lovers once, but times were different. Although she couldn't tell if they were the best or worst of them, she knew she wanted a break from the life she had in Jersey. She wanted a return to older times when working wasn't all she did.

"Hmm," he hummed skeptically. "Go on. I see you're dying to leave." He got up again and offered her another hug.

"Never. I'll be back for dinner if you'll have me."

He laughed, naturally. Lou was all smiles, all of the time. "Of course. And do me a favor Frankie."

"Anything zio," she promised without the slightest clue what she was agreeing to.

"Go see your father. He doesn't say it, but I know he misses you."

* * *

><p>He didn't know a single person who loved his job. Much less someone who worked for the likes of Baker. He had a wife and kids to get back to, but couldn't. He didn't get to leave until Baker decided it was time. As soon as he heard Baker's Italian leather shoes hit the marble tiles of the lobby inside, he tossed his cigarette and worked the toe of his shoe against the stub. Always the last to check out, he was always ready to go. "Mr. Baker, here are the minutes to today's meeting," he said, handing him the manila folder, "Tomorrow you have an appointment scheduled with Mr. Lerner."<p>

"Who approved this?" Julian sighed.

He answered his boss hesitantly, afraid that he might have done something wrong. "Mr. Lerner told me to save your two o'clock for him. He wants to finalize everything. If that's all, I'll see you tomorrow Mr. Baker."

"Goodnight Callaghan," he waved, fully prepared to return to his hotel room, "Actually there is one thing. It turns out that I'm going to be staying in Chicago for an extra week. Have Richard Davis call me in an hour's time. Tell him that I need to talk to him."

"Very good, Mr. Baker. I'll let him know. Goodnight." He tipped his hat and walked off.

"Charles," he nodded. That was the only signal the driver needed.

One by one, the lights were beginning to shut off. The world seemed lonelier, almost as if something had died in this city. He wanted nothing more than to return home, where lights would offer their everlasting comfort. Most importantly, _it_ had finally hit him.

There was always a moment in any trip when he would feel like he was less of a human, times when he simply needed to be with Brooke. When the nights got too lonely and she was nowhere close, he sought release in other women. Somehow he had made it okay. If he thought of Brooke while it was happening, in some convoluted way, it was okay. He pretended he was making love to the auburn-haired woman in New York and as soon as he was finished, his anguish was removed.

He was gone often and often, he wondered whether Brooke had dared to do the same to him. He thought that maybe he wouldn't blame her if she slept with another, but he was far too proud a man for that. There was a different standard. It was universally known that men could hold several affairs as long as they were kept hidden from society. In fact, it was a measure of their power. It wasn't quite the same for women. If she engaged in an affair, she would make a fool of him and no one in their right mind would extend opportunities.

He truly loved her, though it was easier for him not to say. Just as it was easier to be bad than good, it took too much courage to admit a place of weakness. Yet life itself subjected everyone to inferiority. For every man is destined to die and he can no sooner control the weather than it control him. To pretend that one was stronger than the rest was a joke and a lie. It may have afforded a few moments of blissful deceit, but the greatest moments in life are always of the fleeting kind, lest men get too comfortable and think themselves to be invincible. He was not a simple man and this was not a simple world. He could only hope that she knew because he didn't want to place himself in any position to fall.

* * *

><p>When he was young, the world was new and conquerable. Every year, his wish was the same- to grow up faster so that any limits his tender age bound him to would disappear. Now he would give anything to trace his steps and go back to a simpler world, better even. A world without consequence and responsibility.<p>

He leaned on the door frame, taking in her every move. The way the dim light hit her hair and caressed her face was an otherworldly sight. The way she was putting on a show for him, swaying her hips to a tune unheard to him. A mischievous glint glossed over her eyes, pulling him towards her. "I want you Luke."

He allowed himself to be pulled by his Henley. Her hands held his face as if at any moment, it would be gone. She brought her lips close to his, brushing them as the wind would pass one by.

His hands snaked around her waist and he stared back intensely, "I _need_ you Brooke."

The world beneath their feet could give at any second, the scenes they painted would be ripped violently from their desperate hands. He wanted her to know how much he feared losing her, how he couldn't imagine life without her, but he couldn't bring himself to voice a dream that would end in a matter of days. And if this was the last thing he could give her, it was something to hold onto.

He kissed her slowly and tenderly and if she didn't need him as much, she might have stopped it. There was something wrong and it nagged at her chest. He pulled back and gave her an ambiguous smile. His fingers pushed back a strand of hair.

"Luke, please," she begged.

He worked the zipper of her dress downward and slid the fabric off her shoulders. She had long ceased to wear lingerie since she started her two weeks with him. Nothing could compare to the sight of her fully nude. The natural human form was the greatest thing to behold and hers more so. He took in a breath. With God as his witness, if this was the last thing he saw on this earth, he could die happily.

And she looked almost shy, as if this were the first time he had seen her. She slowly unbuttoned his Henley and drew it from his body. It reminded her instantly of everything she could ever want from life. She would give everything she had in a heartbeat barring her obligations. Then came his pants and boxers.

With their lips still attached, he walked them to the bed.

In a matter of seconds, he asked her for the permission he always had and she gave him the consent he wanted.

His lips touch the parts of her that no man could ever touch, down the trail of her neck, towards the valley of her breasts. Her hands gripped his blond hair and guided him to her sex. It was no longer about the games and the teasing but rather a mutual need for pleasure and surrender. She bit back a moan as he drew figure eights with his tongue.

He felt himself grow at the slightest sound that escaped from her sweet lips.

Deciding that it was enough, he eased himself up. He caught her where she threatened to scream and entered her slowly. He continued to kiss her as if his life had now depended on it.

She pulled him closer in a futile attempt to bridge a gap that wasn't there. Her legs wrapped around him. He met her time and again, gradually picking up his pace.

He had since moved on and focused on her neck. Her hand buried itself in his hair, the other holding onto his back.

The room heard her whimpers and his groans.

Neither of them knew understood how they were still holding out. The pressure started to build, the air turned a little hotter and somehow, it became harder to breathe.

He took what little energy remained and offered it to her, running himself to her core.

And finally, everything seemed to end around them and there was nothing for miles on end but the paradiso of Dante's world.

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><p><strong>Hope the wait was worth it. Let me know what you think about this chapter. Until next time.<strong>


	14. Midnight City

**I've had this chapter written for a while now and I realize that I haven't updated in well over a year. Sorry about that, really. But during this time, I received a couple of follows, reviews, and what not, so thank you for still sticking by. I have an outline of where I want to go with this story, but truth be told I haven't had the time nor the motivation to write. I don't know exactly how I'm going to approach each story arc that I've set for myself. The plan is to make the story more Lucas-centric as we go on since I feel a lot more strongly for the plot lines I've planned for him. Don't worry, Brooke will still have her time. I completely agree with one of the reviews about my lack of updates. I'm really sorry and I promise I will try my best to keep this story going.**

**That being said, I wanted to get a couple of chapters written before I started up this story again. So for the next few weeks there should be a somewhat steady stream of updates. (Provided that college- and most importantly, my writer's block- doesn't get in the way again). Important things will be happening within the next few chapters so I'm excited for that. I hope that those of you that are still following will enjoy this chapter as well as the upcoming ones and those that are just starting this story will find it good enough to begin following. **

**One last order of business, I introduced a new character last chapter (I think? It's been a while). Francesca is Lou's niece and there will be a side arc involving her. She plays an important role in Lucas' past and his future (Stay tuned). After all, there's been a bit of tension on Brooke's side. It's only fair that Lucas' life is expanded upon, seeing that there's more to his story than the one I've been telling so far. There's another new character, this time a historical figure, so keep an eye out. He will be extremely instrumental in Lucas' changing life and I've been extremely excited to introduce him to the story. **

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><p>There are very few moments where people feel completely content with their lives. The way it's gone and the way it's about to go. Their greatest fault was realizing too late that the best of times were upon them and spending countless hours lamenting what was. It was perhaps natural disposition that rendered them oblivious to times of peace because they somehow felt less impacted than they should have by the moments they ought to have treasured. This unrelenting feeling of nostalgia was universal. For men will always wish for the time of those who came before and those for the time of men who came before them until there reaches a time which no one can remember. The biggest flaw in all of this was that history was sometimes subjective. Sure, facts can be written on a page which will inevitably be held as the "truth" for years to come. There are, however, many versions of the "truth." Not lies, no, but versions of the truth. It's too easy to glorify simpler times having not lived through it because these feelings originate from a sense of familiarity, an unwillingness to change.<p>

And then there are those less fortunate who will take their luck and run with it. They live lives characterized by one tragedy followed by the next that it becomes the easiest thing in the world to recognize the good, no matter how small of a good thing it may be.

She inched closer to him, planting a kiss on his neck. "Luke, time to get up."

"You can't wear me out like you did last night and expect me to wake up." Without opening his eyes, he knew she was biting her lips in that irresistible way of hers. Her fingers would trace vague shapes on his chest in three, two, one. There it was. It was like clockwork. He knew her.

He thought she had given up when she sighed, praying that she would let him go back to sleep. Just then, she straddled him and ran her hands along the contours of his chest before resting them on his shoulders. She saw it in her advantage to work a few kisses on the way there. Any chance of falling asleep was long gone. "Come on Luke, I don't want to stay in bed all day."

With his eyes still closed, he captured her lips with his and managed to turn them over. "I have no problem with staying in bed all day," he challenged, "We have everything we need here. Liquor, cigarettes, you, me, an empty apartment, and this bed. It sounds like a fucking paradise to me, pretty girl."

She turned them back over. "Paradise is us going out and doing something for once." She struggled to pull him up by his arms while he laughed amusedly. "Come on. Luke. Get up. You're so heavy."

He reached back and pulled his pillow up. He sat up before lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag. "You know why we can't do that. If someone sees us… I'm not ready to lose you yet."

"You're not getting rid of me that easily. After all, you're underestimating how charming this girl of yours is. I've been making my rounds around Ludlow and I'll have you know that they love me." Her brow was arched in that confident tone she always bore. And that smirk, he could swear that smirk was the making of the devil. The Davis girl could have the world at her knees if she wanted and he wouldn't be surprised if she already had.

"And modest as well. How could anyone possibly compare to you?" he commented sarcastically.

She had since abandoned the sheets covering her body. "I charmed you, didn't I?"

"Touché."

"Please, Luke?" she pouted. "I can't stay in here any longer. No one is going to talk. I promise."

He rubbed his tired eyes. "Brooke," he sighed.

Her fingers trailed down his body, inching lower and lower towards his growing member. "Please, Luke," she asked slowly.

His head was thrown back and his eyes were glazed over with complete lust. "Yes, yes."

No sooner had her fingers reached their target than they had left. She jumped off the bed, swaying her hips back and forth as she walked away. She stretched her arm and leaned against the doorframe. "Now, I'm headed for the shower. If you know what's good for you, you'll join me." It was more of a demand than a question.

He had absolutely no complaints. It finally seemed as if everything was going as he wanted it to be. And no amount of money could keep him on this high.

* * *

><p>The days around Kelly's were starting to slow down. There was no action as of late and he was beginning to get a little restless. When he finished the last of his beer, Nathan threw his bottle of beer in the old tarnished trashcan and it landed cleanly.<p>

"Five bucks says you can't make it again," Lucky said as he lit his cigarette.

Nathan chuckled patronizingly. It was a shot he made several times before and would have no problem hitting again. "Twenty bucks and you've got yourself a deal." He threw the crisp bill onto the barrel in front of him.

"Ten."

The younger Scott shook his head. "Twenty."

"Fifteen." Lucky tossed another five to his pile.

"Twenty," Nathan maintained nonchalantly.

"Fine you cocksucker. Twenty it is." Lucky downed the rest of his beer and handed the glass to Nathan. "Let's see what you can do lover boy."

"Yea, yea you son of a bitch. Don't come crying when I pocket that pretty twenty of yours," he joked as he grabbed the bottle handed to him. He aimed the glass carefully at the can, his arms raised in perfect form above him. He released the beer bottle with a majestic arc and a flawless follow through. The bottle danced around the rim for a moment before landing in its desired spot- among the garbage in the can. "What'd I tell ya Lucky? Perfect shot every time. Thanks for dinner," he smiled as he waved the bills in front of Lucky's face. There was one thing that never changed, he would never be a gracious winner.

Just then, another one of Kelly's lackeys called out to the brunette Scott. "Hey Nathan, Kelly wants to see you in the office. Now."

Nathan nodded in acknowledgement. He tapped Lucky on the shoulder. "It was nice betting with you. We should do it again sometime."

Lucky only grumbled as he took another drag of his cigarette.

The younger Scott rapped his knuckles against the wooden door at the end of the warehouse and was met with a muffled "Come in." "You called for me boss?"

"Yea," he pushed forward the white envelope on the desk. "Here's your cut from the last job. You did good Nate. You know, you carry your weight around here. I've been thinking that you begin to lead some of the new recruits. Toss them into the deep end of the pool so they know what they're getting into from the get-go. Speaking of new recruits, I want you to talk to your brother. We've got more shipments coming in and I don't see it slowing down anytime soon. Tell him he can keep his job, he can work for me on the side. I was young once too. The broads don't just come around if you don't got money linin' your pockets. He knows the docks and I need someone on the docks. Tell him he'd be stupid to refuse."

"I'll try boss, but my brother's a straight shooter."

Kelly chuckled. "Everyone's got a price Nate. There will always be a number high enough to turn even the most honest of men. He'll work for me one day. Get your ass down to Lucky's, we got business to do."

The thought didn't have a chance to lull over in his mind because if anyone knew Lucas, it was him. Lucas had voiced his disapproval toward Nathan and his job and most importantly, Lucas kept by his word no matter what. There were days when Nathan saw his brother agonizing over money and wanted to ask him to join Kelly, but Lucas wasn't cut out for this life. He could feel the person he used to be slipping through the cracks. That's the thing about working for Kelly. You don't realize you want out until it's too late. And when that day comes, you'll convince yourself that it's the life you want because you're too much of a fucking coward to admit you've done wrong the whole time.

This was his life now. And he'd said it enough times to make it his truth: Kelly was the greatest opportunity he ever had.

* * *

><p>"Make it quick," he said as he entered the car.<p>

"I've had a couple of guys following her for the past couple of days. If she isn't at the Davis residence, she's at an apartment in Ludlow," the gangster told him. Kelly was trying to breathe new life into his business by opening Chicago. New York was beginning to crowd from ambitious men trying to make a living from doing dirty work. Naturally, a network to expand his influence was an easier alternative to quelling every hotheaded, belligerent gang wanting to make a name for itself. Kelly had sent the gangster to Chicago in hopes of recruiting the young and reckless to his cause. The gangster was stationed here for several months now and wished for his life back in Brooklyn. He had uprooted his entire life, wife and kid, at the behest of Kelly.

Julian had automatically assumed the worst. He was told the mark of a successful relationship was trust; he took that to mean blind faith. He certainly didn't get this far in life on blind faith. Brooke was his life and this, the monitoring, was his insurance against the uncontrollable. "Who was she with? There is no godly reason why Brooke would ever make her way down to Ludlow." He smoothed out the crease in his tailored coat.

The gangster looked to Julian briefly for approval as he stuck a cigarette in his mouth. The banker nodded, prompting the gangster to light the stick. He exhaled the thick smoke before responding. "She's walked out a couple of times with a nightclub singer. Haley James, I think her name is. I've tried asking around to avoid getting caught following but the landlord is never there to answer questions. The tenants wither don't speak a lick of English or say they've never heard of a Ms. Davis. My men say she sometimes frequents a bar called O' Halloran's. She hasn't been there for the past couple of nights and the bartender isn't giving anything up. I know he's holding back on information. I'll have my men corner him in the alley after he closes up. It will take some time to get the order out to New York. You know Kelly has to sign off on this before my men get to work. And that fucking accountant who's too much of a pussy to show his face keeps telling the boss to hold off on doing jobs for you until all your debts are paid."

The banker merely sniggered. "That cocksucker knows I always settle my debts but he grabs me by the fucking balls like I don't have the money. I'll have the cash wired by the end of the day. Make sure your men deliver."

"Yes sir. Now I don't mean no disrespect to the boss, but there are certain things that could be changed about the way he runs things. I'd take your word in good faith Mr. Baker. You've done enough business with us to make your word gospel. If I was running the joint, I'd get rid of that fucking accountant. He's fucking dirty and I know it. We could only do more business without him. Kelly could be making a hell of a lot more money than he does now, that's for sure."

Julian normally hated insubordinates. They were quick to offer advice but lacked the insight and intelligence to realize their ideas were wrong. They often overreached, trying to disturb an order with which they had no business interfering. "What's your name?" he found himself asking despite his proclivities. He produced his checkbook from the inside of his coat.

"Capone. Al Capone, sir." The gangster watched as the banker quickly scribbled his answer on a check followed by a one and the largest number of zeros he'd had ever seen.

"Capone. I'm advancing this check to you in good faith. You see, my patience with Kelly is wearing thin. I see something in you, potential to be the greatest mobster that ever was. I want you to work for me, but pretend like you still answer to Kelly. In return, I will continue giving you these kindly sums and I will help you take over Chicago. Now I don't know the first thing about running a successful gang, but I've never had an investment go wrong. You take this check and if I see my bank account short the amount I've just written to you, I will have had my answer." He tipped his hat and opened the car door.

* * *

><p>Despite his shortcomings as of late, Jake had made good on his obligations and brought back enough money for Jenny's treatment. Peyton knew the money didn't add up, but she no longer cared. After weeks of watching that girl falling in and out of sickness and her being completely powerless to treat it, she welcomed the brief remedy to her stress. She all but grabbed the cash and ran to Doc's with Jenny in her arms. There was once a time when she could have led a promising life as a carefree bohemian, drinking and smoking with artists, musicians, and writers. And at that time, she would have laughed at the thought of her being a helpless mess on the account of a child. Her life now was worlds apart from that time. The proof was in the fact that she would have chosen this life a thousand times over for that little girl. Despite the struggles and stress. Especially because of the struggles and stress.<p>

They sat on the sidelines waiting anxiously as the doctor moved about. "Is she going to be okay, Doc?"

He walked over to one of many shelves lined with bottles of all sorts. "She's a sickly child and I don't imagine this changing. It's going to be hard for her while she's growing up. My treatment is temporary. She'll come over with this sickness again and again and there's not much I can do about it," he said as he grabbed a brown bottle. "Feed her a tablespoon every morning and night. Her affliction should be gone in a few days. Every time she acts up again, this medicine should help alleviate her symptoms. I wish there was more I could do, but unless better treatments come along, my hands are tied."

"Thank you doctor. Here's what I owe you for the visit," she said as she handed the bills over. The doctor only nodded in response as he took the money from her trembling hands.

She scooped the litter girl into her arms and did her best to shield her from the incoming cold. Jake trailed behind her silently. He didn't know what to make of Peyton's current mood. Her emotions were always beyond prediction. It used to be that he could handle her and for lack of a better term, he tamed her. They had loved each other once; it was difficult to remember these times when their current predicament made it seem like a foreign concept, happiness that is. Maybe they still did, or he did at least.

Peyton's pregnancy had been largely unplanned. At the time, it seemed like the worst thing that could have happened to either of them. Poor, young, and knew shit all about responsibility. Neither of them was cut out for the settled life. On long, quiet nights, when the streets were long empty and he made his way home from a strenuous day, she would be up waiting for him. He would find himself staring back at her and seeing resentment. Resentment for the worry he's caused. Resentment for him tying her down. He knew that Peyton loved Jenny though. That as much as she loved that little girl, she hated him. He would never ask her about it. It was just better for the both of them to allow misconceptions about the other to fester than it was to hear the dreaded words spoken aloud and have all doubt removed.

"Thank you," she whispered to him.

He was caught by surprise at her words. When had they become strangers? When had providing for their daughter become a favor to warrant gratitude? "It's my job, Peyton," he replied warily. It's not that he was looking to argue with her. These days every single comment she made seemed to passively aggressively criticize him for not being the man she wanted him to be. He knew it was inappropriate, what with their daughter in earshot and her almost dying, but he felt the build-up of years of discontent surging through his tired body. Looking at that helpless girl was the only thing keeping him on eggshells around Peyton. "I'm going to try, Peyt. I know you don't believe me, but it's the honest to God truth."

They had come together to bring about the very thing which was tearing them apart. And neither of them knew how to stop it.

* * *

><p>Lou gave her a key to an apartment she'd never imagine entering again. There were many reasons why she had chosen to leave for Jersey. Yes, the singing was a huge part of it, but she had done it for a change of scenery. Her romantic life had reached a breaking point and the stresses of her family were beginning to take its toll.<p>

Part of her felt guilty for leaving her father. Ever since her mother died, he turned to the bottle. He didn't do much parenting; he had left that responsibility to his brother Lou. Lou was the closest thing to a father she had, but even then she could never feel like she was his. She did her best to survive on her own, picking up where Lou left off.

It was safe to say that she would have starved had it not been for her uncle. Her father only ever scrapped together enough money for alcohol and when he wasn't drinking, he was passed out. Many nights were spent tending to the hungover mess he became.

She twisted the metal piece into the lock and pushed the familiar door open. "Dad?" she called out.

No answer.

She walked into the adjoining room. The middle aged man was whispering in his sleep. "Gemma." After all these years, he still called out her mother's name. As if he was the only one who had lost her. Francesca was closer to her mother than she was with her father. When her mother died, she was impossibly young. Much too young to fathom the loss of a parent. Somehow, she had to come to terms with it on her own. She had grown to hate her father for not being there for her when she needed him most.

He wasn't there per say, but he was physically there with her. Her mother had left them- she was the only reason why she had to become an adult at nine years of age. It seemed irrational to her, however, to hate the dead. It was much easier to place blame on someone she could see because at least he had the chance to redeem them.

Frankie removed the empty bottle from his limp hand and placed it on the nightstand. She fetched a dry towel to wipe the contents that had spilled to the floor. Three years away from New York and still, the routine was fresh in her mind.

The apartment had been frozen in time. She would have laughed if it didn't signify her lost childhood. The outside world was constantly changed by forces beyond anyone's understanding and control, but this Ludlow apartment of all places remained completely unscathed. It wasn't the kind of constant that people wanted or hoped for, but it was her constant.

She never felt at home despite living there her entire life. How did one reconcile homesickness for a place that they didn't exist in one's heart? Perhaps time away had given her perspective because for the first time in her young life, she finally felt it.

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><p>This was the third time he had checked his watch. He had asked Haley to deliver a message to Brooke. With the way his brother and his lover were bound, he'd be surprised that the rich socialite would even make it to the meeting at all.<p>

He finally spotted her from the corner of his eye and waved discreetly to signal his presence.

"Haley said you wanted to see him. Sorry I'm so late. You know how your brother is. Can barely keep his hands off me," she joked.

He shuffled awkwardly. Firstly, he didn't want to think of his brother that way and secondly, what he had to say would remove the jovial tone the brunette assumed. "About that. I think you should stop seeing Lucas for a little while."

Her face fell immediately. "I thought you were okay with us now. I know I'm just the girl that your brother's seeing, but -"

Nathan shook his head fervently. "No, no. It's not that. Kelly gave an order out today. To me and a couple of the guys I work with. I didn't realize what it was at first. I thought it was just tailing some rich guy's wife. You know, classic guy is paranoid his better half is cheating, hires mob to catch her in the act and break the cocksucker's bones."

She felt the dread building in the pit of her stomach. She knew where this was leading and now she couldn't help but feel stupid for putting Lucas in that kind of danger. Damn it, she shouldn't have tried to convince him to walk about in public with her.

"I caught on pretty quick and I tried my best to avoid you. You guys can't go out like that, Kelly's men are looking for you. We got lucky today, but I can't keep these guys off your tail without them getting suspicious and all. It's best if you lay low. I don't want my brother to get killed." He had grown to like Brooke. She was a good change for his brother, especially after the bump in the road he went through a few years before. But Lucas was blood. Nathan would always have his back first and foremost. Moreover, this was precisely why he was against this whole relationship in the first place. He knew this day would come.

She took his words as an offense. To mean that she was the one that had put Lucas in harm's way. Yes, in a way it was her fault. Maybe she was too stubborn to consider the consequences because it bought her two weeks time. Two weeks that were possibly the happiest she's ever had. "Do you think Kelly's guys saw us together?" she asked, afraid of the answer.

"I don't think so. Baker's sure something is going on and he has it out for the guy."

"Julian isn't like that. Before you tell me that I'm one of those girls who can see no wrong in the man they're with, I'm not. I know Julian. He's protective, but he would never hurt someone like that. For Pete's sake, he visited his nanny in Chicago. That kind of man does not kill."

He sighed. There was no way he wouldn't get push back for telling her point blank that she was wrong, but he didn't know how else to phrase it. "I get my orders from Kelly. Kelly has no beef with you. He doesn't order his men to go on a massive man hunt without getting compensation. My orders were to kill Lucas. Not rough him up a little bit so he learns a lesson. He literally wants Lucas to die a slow, painful death and if he doesn't die, he'll be wishing he did. My brother is a good guy. He doesn't deserve this Brooke."

Read: you don't deserve someone like him. "I'll lay low," she said dejectedly.

"Thank you Brooke."

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><p>He situated himself on the dock, dangling his feet over the water. Brooke had been gone for a while now, but they agreed to meet up again later on in the night. He made himself comfortable despite the cold chill and lit a cigarette. His eyes squinted as they usually did when he was contemplating, staring at the river and the distant skyline of Jersey. Of course, it was nothing close to New York. The lights already went out on that side but if he looked a little more closely, he might have found someone just like him sitting on the opposite end, staring at the city, blinded by the bright lights.<p>

_You start to wonder if you were real. If the world you're in actually existed. If the experiences you had have somehow changed you and those around you. Or if everything was a figment of our overactive imaginations. We can claim to know more. Age, for instance, seems to be the adopted measure of knowledge. Not general knowledge like why the planets revolve around the Sun or why the stars shine at night, but knowledge of life, experiences, which is deemed directly proportional to age. Yet there are those who have lived a lifetime without anything eventful, in which case their lives could hardly have been considered lived. There are those called the young and reckless. Those that face each coming day with a sense of wonder and pack their lives with experiences like sardines in a can. Those that see much but are not long for this world. Knowledge such as the undying love I have for you. Knowledge that this affair, like those crash and burn types, is fleeting like ships in the night._

He took one glance at his watch before using his right hand to prop himself up. He gave one last look at the departing fleets before putting out his cigarette. Those were the ships at night. The ones that left in the blanket of darkness, retreating in almost complete silence to some destination unknown with purposes unknown.

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><p><strong>Was the chapter worthy of a return? Reviews are appreciated. Until next time.<strong>


	15. Lost Stars

**As promised, another chapter for the week. This is one of the longer chapters and also one of the most important ones. I'm moving the plot line along so we can get to the good stuff. Without further ado...**

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><p>The most questionable of acts always happen after dark. Perhaps it's because people are too afraid to face their own faults and shortcomings when light casts its judging eyes upon them.<p>

A man of routine, Lucas made his way down to O'Halloran's. Only difference was the brunette in tow. If there was anything he liked about O'Halloran's, it was that everyone minded their own business and Owen was the most discreet bartender in town, if there ever was one. O' Halloran's was practically a breeding ground for all things unspeakable. If Baker wanted to know anything about anyone, he would never get it out of an O'Halloran's patron.

Even then, everyone knew not to mess with Aidan O'Halloran. He didn't give the slightest shit what any of his patrons did as long as his bar was in pristine condition; well, as pristine a group of drunkards would allow. Drug dealing? No problem, take it to the back alley. Fights? Handle it outside the bar. Going to be sick, little bastard? The curb's right outside. O'Halloran had an agreement with some of the cops around the area. They would look the other way whenever some cheeky son of a bitch decided to shine a light on O'Halloran's dealings. In return, the bar owner would keep the drinks pouring. He was a product of a Five Points family; in other words, don't fuck with him, he's bound to add a lot more to the bargain.

Lucas led her through to the back, where Nathan and Haley had already made themselves comfortable. His brother was busy downing the dark ale in his hand while Haley was seated near what undoubtedly was a glass of water.

Her hands were entwined with his and as safe as she felt with him, it did nothing to calm her gnawing nerves.

Without even looking at her, Lucas sensed her nervousness and turned to look at her. "What's wrong?"

She sighed. "Nothing. I'm just… I don't know if I'm ready."

He chuckled and ran his hands along her arms. "You've seen Nathan before and you've put him in his place more times than I can count."

"I don't think it's a good idea, especially after the encounter we had. I get that he thinks I'm going to hurt you and I appreciate that he looks after you-"

"But you still want his approval right? Trust me, Nathan doesn't hold anything to heart. We're brothers, it's in our nature to look after each other. As long as I'm happy, we have his blessing. If we don't, then we don't. His opinion counts, that's the truth, but it's about you and me."

"Yea…" she trailed, casting a glance at Haley.

He followed her line of sight. "She's harmless you know?"

"It's not just Nathan anymore. It's Nathan and Haley, it's Naley. She seems so perfect standing next to me and if anyone's qualified to be judging anyone, it's her. God, I feel like I'm meeting your parents."

"Well then, you're lucky that my parents aren't here," he joked sadly, "It's alright. Just take a few breaths, down some Irish whiskey, maybe the whole bottle if you'd like."

She pouted. "I'm serious Luke."

"And so am I," he reassured her, "I know enough to tell you that you're on their good side. Come on." He nodded his head in Naley's general direction and threw his arm over her shoulder. As soon as they were seated, he threw up two fingers to an omnispective Owen. "Hey Nate, Haley."

* * *

><p>"So get this. I'm waiting outside, smoking a cig, knowing fuck all about what was happening. Bastard tells me he's just got to fetch something. I think alright and I end up waiting for his ass for about an hour, give or take. Turns out he was with another broad who happens to be married to one of the scariest fucking men around. Next thing I know, he decides to make a run for it. He throws his clothes over the fence and tells me to run, all the while he's barely clothed. Just when the man brings out a shotgun, Nate here decides it's a good idea to trip. Luckily for us, he was a terrible shot." He turned to Brooke and smirked. "Lucky for you or else you wouldn't be stuck with such a handsome, debonair, charming-"<p>

"Annoying, overconfident man? Thanks. I think we can all agree here that I'm the catch," she stated matter-of-factly, looking to Naley for affirmation. To his disappointment, they nodded albeit jokingly; Nathan a bit too eagerly even.

He turned to Haley, exacting his revenge. "I'd like to say lucky for you, but unfortunately, Nathan's not the best looking of the lot, now is he? I think we can all agree that you're the catch."

The strawberry blonde chuckled while Nathan aimed a quick punch at Lucas' shoulder. "Hey, watch it! Always the brute, Nate," he shook his head, "With your looks, it's someone I don't think you can afford to be," he continued to tease.

"You know what? I'm going to let that slide."

"No way. Nathan Royal Scott, letting something slide? Is the world going to end?"

"Shut it smartass. I'm just in too much of a good mood to deal with you. Any other time, you would be on the floor, begging me to stop."

"Kind of like Haley when you're in the bedroom." Haley blushed at the mention of sex.

Nathan, however, took the dig. "That's it." The brothers got up and exchanged a few harmless punches.

"Boys, take it outside," shouted Owen.

The younger of the two shouted back, "We're just having a bit of fun, Morello."

Brooke took a sip of her beer. She was never much of a beer drinker, but welcomed any opportunity to drink. "The real takeaway here is that Nathan's middle name is Royal."

"Oh come on," the brunette man complained, "You're giving me shit about Royal when your boyfriend has an infinitely more embarrassing one? Hell, even I'm embarrassed for him."

Suddenly, Haley's interest was piqued. "What is it?"

Lucas glared warningly at Brooke, who only chuckled. "I'd rather not say."

Nathan thanked Brooke internally for giving him the leverage he needed. All of Lucas' insults were going to come back to him twofold. "His middle name's Eugene," he spoke a little too loudly.

Lucas slid into his seat, attempting to cover his face. Haley could barely suppress a laugh. Brooke lost it altogether and placed a hand on Lucas' arm. "I'm sorry, babe. Nathan's right."

"It's alright, _Penelope_," he grinned as she cringed at the mention of the name. "While we're on the topic, what's yours Haley?" His devious smile challenged her; of course, all in good fun.

"I plead the Fifth."

Brooke, recovering from the public outage of the name that shall not be named, urged her, "That's not fair. Share in the pain of this group. It's only fair since you learned ours."

"Fine," she conceded and mumbled something incoherent.

Nathan was already laughing at her misery. "Babe, I don't think either of them got that."

She only glared at him before trying again. And again, none of them could hear her.

Lucas spoke up. "Haley, you might as well get this over with. Whatever it is, I'm sure it can't be worse than mine."

"IT'S BOB. MY MIDDLE NAME IS BOB," she yelled. This caught the attention of the other patrons, who chuckled at the admission. "Well Lucas, the public humiliation certainly made it worse."

Laughs were given out as freely as air. When the air-sucking, eye-watering, stomach-hurting fit of hysterics died down, Brooke wiped her eyes and sighed. "What were our parents thinking? Did they hate us or something?"

* * *

><p>"You go first. I'll meet up with you guys later."<p>

Nathan nodded and tapped Lucas shoulder as he turned back into the bar.

Lucas bore his trademark squint, took a quick drag out of his cigarette and blew out the impure smoke. He sighed and for the first time in a long time, he felt content. Given his luck, he knew that he should appreciate it while it lasted. He savored the cig until it was nothing more than a stub, which he tossed carelessly onto the street.

Instead of returning to his table, he made a detour to the stalls. Unsurprisingly, the prostitutes were camped right in front of them, trying to earn their keep for the night. The thing about O'Halloran's was that the men were most likely dirt poor. They were looking to escape their ordinary existence, but only found it in the form of a pint. Everyone was there for a reason no matter how weak of one it was.

There was one woman that night who reached a mild amount of success. It was none other than the lowlife Jerry McCulloch, running his hands up her dress. He wouldn't know what discretion was if it hit him in the face. The real surprise was that McCulloch had enough money in the first place. He worked construction and there weren't a hell of a lot of jobs going around these days. Last Lucas heard, McCulloch was living off a couple of friends. Lucas took one look at him and rolled his eyes.

Unfortunately for him, his lack of attention sent him colliding with an unsuspecting stranger. "I'm sorry," they said in unison.

He would have recognized her anywhere. He did a double take and furrowed his brow. "Francesca?"

She removed her inspecting eyes from herself and looked at the tall blond. She smirked in that unmistakably dangerous way. "Lucas Scott."

Just the sight of her sent him reeling back. What was a day in his life without the tricks. She was the before. She was the brunette that _used_ to invade his mind. She was the one his heart _used_ to ache for. She was the one he _used_ to say he would lose it all for. And he hadn't been lying.

Though another brunette occupied his heart, this one took the first piece. He let out a laugh of incredulity. "God, you look great Frankie."

"Still pining after me, huh?" she asked smugly.

He chuckled. "You don't leave a man with much choice. Where have you been?"

She smiled with a touch of sadness. "Around. I was a singer in Jersey for a while. You still working those arms of yours?"

He nodded. "Puts food on the table and it's all I know how to do."

"That's not true. If I recall correctly, you were chasing the likes of Dickens and Shakespeare."

"That was the plan. Somewhere along the way, life decided to run its own course and now it's unlike anything I've ever imagined." The conversation was too fucking heavy for him and for them. For him because Jerry_ fucking_ McCulloch was barely three feet away, devouring the prostitute lustfully as if his life depended on it and because deep down, he was struggling with those feelings for Brooke already; he could do without feeling this damn way for Francesca as well. For them because they never did this. They took their relationship as it went. Talking was never their strong suit and now that they were nothing more than a memory of the past, talking was the easiest and hardest thing in the world.

"Maybe it's because we're heading the wrong way."

"What are you talking about?" he questioned, genuinely confused.

"Us. We had some low lows, but everything had a messed up way of seeming completely right."

He shrugged, not knowing how to respond.

Without warning, she cupped his face, her soft hands against his short stubble. "Luke. Remember why we broke up?" Damn that look in her eyes.

He covered her hand and for a brief moment, relished that familiar feeling and closeness. "We agreed it wasn't right. And I know that it's not going to be right no matter what."

"How can you be so sure?" she challenged, "We're different people. It didn't work then because we both weren't ready."

"We're different people with the same hearts. We had our chance. This profession of love or whatever you call it is wrong. Us talking about this near the bathroom of a shady Irish bar is proof enough." He removed her hand and thought back to the brunette just a few tables away.

"I still think about you," she admitted.

He can't get over how fucked everything was right now. They had since moved further from the general bar area into a dark corner where the only bulb flickered pathetically. "Frankie."

"No. At least let me get this out. When we said the most important thing for either of us to do was to pursue our dreams, I left. And for the longest time, I thought we were right. If I was going to become a singer, I couldn't stay in New York. I couldn't face you when I still wanted you so badly."

He shook his head. "You know, that's the part I don't mind. What I didn't get was why you didn't tell me. We may have broken up, but I still cared for you" He hated that his relationships were fucked up in one way or another. He hated that, despite her absence of years, he had an inkling of love for the flirtatious, carefree half-Italian. What he hated most was that she was coming back now, out of the motherfucking blue, just as he was recovering from the latest whirlwind in his life: Brooke Davis.

When he couldn't possibly fathom Brooke's ability to love two people at once, now he knew. But Frankie was his past. He loved her, but not quite to the same degree he did a few years back.

"I was afraid that if I saw you again, I would have taken it all back. I would have put us over me. I needed to put me over us because I didn't want to lose it all yet. I don't regret any of it because I know what that road is like. I don't have to wonder what if."

He opened and shut his mouth a few times, struggling to find the right words, if such words existed. "I don't know what to say. Honestly, we were both selfish. It's great that you're doing what you want, but this time apart made me realize that we're meant for different things, things that we can never be too sure of."

He saw those glistening orbs at the corner of her eyes, the ones that could render every man unsure of what to do. But he knew she was stronger that. They would never fall and maybe, he realized, that was why they never worked.

Now here's the thing about Lucas Scott; he wasn't into the types that needed him. The more independent, the better. He had a ton of shit riding on his shoulders and coupled with the fact that he could barely take care of himself, he wasn't looking to take care of another person. He just wanted to escape, to get lost.

That's where Francesca came in. She didn't need anyone and that's what he needed. Then somewhere along the way, he hit the road block any man would: he needed to be needed. Sure they loved each other, but it got too hard to remember. If she needed him, he hadn't a clue. She could up and go at any moment. On some level, he needed her in a way she didn't match.

That's why it worked with Brooke. Maybe all relationships were fucked up and that's how they were supposed to be; he didn't know there was any other kind. Though Brooke was a hard as nails, didn't take anyone's shit kind of girl, she was vulnerable. And there was the beauty. Because vulnerability was human. Because no one won the fight against the world and probably never would. Because sometimes it's easier to fall.

Frankie was never that girl. "I need you Luke."

* * *

><p>He walked back to the table, not entirely sure what had happened. He ran his hands through his hair and tried his best to mask any emotion, lest anyone pick up on it.<p>

"Hey what took so long?" asked Nathan.

"There was a line."

At this, the other three casted a doubtful glance. "In front of the men's room? Are you sure you went to right one?"

One thing was abundantly clear: Lucas was shit at hiding his emotions. His face read like an open book. The confusion was alarmingly obvious in his eyes and the distress on his brows was a dead giveaway. "Yea. McCulloch was too busy blocking the door with one of the hookers."

"You're kidding. McCulloch can barely rub two pennies together. How did he pull that kind of money in the first place?"

"Beats me. Maybe it's for the best. He looked like he hadn't felt a woman's touch in his life."

"Son of a bitch like that, doesn't surprise me at all.," Nathan said.

The men's better halves looked at each other before Brooke got up. "Okay. That's our cue to go." She led Lucas out of his seat. "Come on Broody."

He complied, or rather followed blindly. Right now, he needed to forget and any semblance of the man he was, left as soon as the alcohol flowed through his damaged liver. And the sight of _that_ brunette was the last thing he was expecting.

Nathan and Haley followed suit and it wasn't soon before long that they ended up on the poorly illuminated streets, stumbling over their drunken selves. Brooke was reduced to her giggles, ones that required no reason other than her state of inebriation. She planted a kiss on his cheek and sauntered over to Haley, stealing her away from Nathan.

Then there were two. Dos amigos. Deux frères. Anyone standing on the outside looking in would have no doubt that the two were brothers. They both walked quietly with their hands hidden deep inside their pockets. Their steps were in perfect synchronization.

"What's the real reason?" the younger brother asked, keeping his sight on Haley.

Lucas whipped his head up to look at him. "What?"

"Oh come on. Brooke and Haley might not know you well enough to catch your lie, but I'm your brother, Luke. You can't pull that kind of bullshit on me."

The blond looked down at his shoes as if they contained the answers to the world. He shrugged.

Nathan threw his head back in laughter. "There's only two things that can shut you up and they're women and work. So what's it going to be Luke? Women or work?"

"I don't want to talk about it. Let it go Nate."

"Fine. If that's the game you're playing."

Lucas looked at his brother and shook his head. "You can't go one day without being an annoying little shit, can you?" His brother was looking out for him and in any other situation, he'd be grateful. He needed time to think. Moreover, he was a man. He didn't want to talk about his feelings; Nathan had already forced him to do too much of it.

"Hey, what are younger siblings for? I'm certainly not here to hold your hand and wipe your ass," Nathan paused and pointed to his brother, "Isn't that your job? Since I never really needed hand holding or ass wiping, I guess your job is embarrassing me at every turn."

"You know, you should be a stand-up comedian. You'd kill at that job."

"Maybe, but these looks can manage better. I've still got to milk them while I've got 'em." The conversation died down, but the uncomfortable air still lingered. "You going to start talking anytime soon or am I going to have to pour some booze to open you up."

Stealing a glance at Brooke, he half-jokingly said, "Is this how you charm those girls of yours into bed?"

"Some. Haley wasn't one of them and I'm thankful for it. Between me and you though, I could do without the blue balling," Nathan sighed.

Lucas furrowed his eyebrows and looked between his brother and his lover. "You mean you two haven't-"

Nathan shook his head and his lips turned downward. "I wish. You've got a good thing going with Brooke. Appreciate the fact that you're having sex and stop looking so down. So now that I've shared my story, it's time that you tell yours."

The blond chuckled sarcastically. "Is that what we were doing? I think I'll pass."

The brunette faked a moment of contemplation, his finger tapped his chin in a repeatedly teasing fashion. "I don't know. If I remember correctly, say maybe a month or so ago, I helped you in a fight that may or may not have broken out in O'Halloran's over a stolen drink and a couple of miscalled names."

"Fuck you Nate. Are you really going to play the sibling card on this one? I don't even get why it matters," Luke loudly hissed. "Don't you want to waste your sibling card on something a little more worthwhile?"

Nathan stared at his brother for a while. "Nah. I think I want to cash it in. So you were saying?"

Lucas rolled his eyes and stayed quiet, biding his time. Nathan and he were always trying to keep score because that's what siblings did. And as soon as a sibling card was pulled out, the other had to honor it. Luke could have all the time in the world to put off whatever it was that Nathan asked of him, but he'd have to get to it eventually. That's why Nathan didn't push. For that, he was grateful.

"Do you remember Francesca?"

Immediately, Nathan's eyes went wide and he all but shouted, "Your ex?"

"Quiet down. I don't want anyone to know." He nudged his head toward Brooke, who was still surprisingly unaware. "She's back and she told me that she still loved me. What the hell is a guy supposed to do with that information?"

"I hate to admit this, but I don't think I have the answers to that one. Usually I just run for the hills." Nathan pointed his hand straight ahead. "I've seen how much she's messed you up and if this were a couple of months back, I would have said go for it. Things have changed. You're with Brooke now. Francesca was a nice girl, but you can't have both. You have to let her go. Damn, she had a great ass if I ever saw one."

"Thanks man. Great pep talk," Lucas remarked sarcastically. "I don't know. I just… how? How do I let go of the one that got away? Brooke's it now. I know as much. And she's the one I want to be with, but there's so much unresolved with Frankie that I can't let go."

"Then resolve it. Brooke's another Frankie for you, but this time I see something different. Brooke makes you smile a little brighter, laugh a little louder, and she does a hell of a job driving you insane. Don't ruin a good thing over something that's already beyond repair."

"Is it though? A part of me still loves Frankie. We may not have broken up on the best of terms, but it was by no means the worst. I mean, I couldn't even bring myself to tell her that I was with Brooke because I feel like there's hope for us."

"You're not going to-"

"Cheat on Brooke? No. I'd like to think that I have my shit sorted out. That and Mom would kick my ass if she were still here. I need Brooke, but until I can figure what's going on with Frankie, I'm going to be stuck in limbo."

"Good. I like Brooke, you know? You're good for each other. Just figure it out Luke. Handle it the way I know my big brother can. And for God's sake, if you mess it up, I'll kick your ass for mom."

* * *

><p>Brooke was awfully touchy for the night, though she managed to sober up by the time they reached his apartment. Naley decided to head back to hers for obvious reasons.<p>

He grabbed the half empty bottle of whiskey from the top cabinet and took two glasses from the drying rack. He returned to his bedroom where Brooke had staked a place on his bed. "Whiskey any good?" he asked as he began pouring the liquid.

She got up and made his lap into her seat. She pulled his collar so that she could whisper, "Perfect, handsome," before kissing the spot behind his ear. She threw back the whiskey, straight without so much as a sign that the alcohol was burning her throat. It wasn't until she placed the glass down that she noticed him staring back at her. "What?"

He ran his hands through his hair and closed his eyes. "I'm tired." He chuckled. "I'm tired. That's all."

Her eyes turned into a shade of sympathy and he hated it. He hated that look, but he couldn't do anything about it. Not when his world decided it was a good idea to fuck with him and not when she caressed his cheeks with her soft hands. "What's wrong?"

He scoffed, looking down at the floor. "Everything except you." He brushed a stray hair from her face and hoped that everything he wanted to get off his chest would be told through his blue irises. She hadn't the slightest clue.

"What the fuck do you want Lucas? I can't do anything about it if you won't fucking tell me." Her state of inebriation would sometimes lead to random bouts of anger and frustration. In this respect, she was unpredictable. The gears in her head turned in ways he couldn't hope to understand. She wanted answers beyond what he was willing to give. Their circumstances worked against them and she was desperately frightened for the both of them. She had given herself freely to him for the past two weeks and slowly but surely, time was finally catching up. She couldn't imagine returning to a life without him, but she couldn't bear the thought of holding him hostage to a dream that could very well never be.

"I don't know what I want. That's the problem. We're not in a fucking relationship and it's suffocating to pretend that you're not with another man and that I'm not over a woman who showed up out of the blue."

"What are you talking about?"

"There was someone a few years ago and she made a surprise appearance tonight. Then something happened."

"Tell me Lucas."

"I-"

"JUST FUCKING TELL ME."

"She kissed me. One minute we were talking and the next, she kissed me. You need to know that I didn't initiate it. If anything, I was telling her that we couldn't be together."

"I can't deal with this right now." She grabbed her bag from the floor and was in a frantic search for her belongings.

"Brooke stop. I don't have any answers and the truth is I don't have a fucking clue about what any of this means. I'm just trying to figure things out and I need your help."

"I can't help you out Lucas. I don't know what to say, much less what to do. What the hell were we thinking when we rushed into this?"

"I was thinking that I needed you. Maybe as a light in this pitch black world. I'm a man trying to learn how to live. I can't catch a break for the life of me. Don't make this the end because I couldn't control this. It was out of my hands and there wasn't a fucking way that I could have known that she was going to kiss me. If you're going to leave me, do it for a better reason."

"Did you kiss her back?"

He shook his head. "No, but if I'm being completely honest, I think I still love her."

"So that's it. You still love her. Where does that leave me?"

"Don't for a second try to pin this on me. You are in a committed relationship with Baker and to my knowledge, you sleep with him. Not lately, but you do. Now one of my past lovers, who I haven't seen for ages, comes back and decides to plant a kiss on me. Somehow that's my fault. What happens when our two weeks are up? What happens when you decide that I'm just a kid from Ludlow that can't give you what you want? You're going to go back to Baker because we both know how this story ends. Who the fuck am I going to have when all of that shit goes down? You know what the kicker is? Every single time I let a women get close to me, I'm the one who gets the short end of the stick. So leave. Get out of my fucking apartment and blame me for a kiss that I didn't start nor reciprocate. I haven't held your relationship with Baker against you, but you're so quick to hold me accountable for a _fucking _kiss."

She threw her bag on the table. "You know what? I've tried harder than you think I have. I don't know where the hell I stand with anyone and I look like an idiot trying to figure out where I'm supposed to be. How do you expect me to handle this? I don't know the first thing about loving someone and you don't make it any easier. I've given everything I can to you, but I never know if you're going to rip the rug from right under me."

"You're not supposed to know what happens next. Because if we did, God would have willed it. Before you walk out on us, just let me say this one thing, okay? You go back to Baker, you know that you're going to get married, have kids, and you'll always have a roof over your head, the best food, the best everything. And I get that you're thinking practically and any woman in your shoes wouldn't even give it a second thought, but is that what you want? I'm not hiding anything from you. It might take a little longer for me to tell you things, but I wouldn't lie. Give me time, that's all I'm asking. I understand if you choose him over me because in any way you look at it, he's the better man. But please don't leave because of Frankie."

"Frankie? That's what we're calling her, huh?"

"Brooke..." he commented exasperatedly. "That isn't the point right now."

She closed her eyes in pain. That defense mechanism was threatening to kick in and have her lash out. There was no choice but to admit that she was more terrified than she had ever been. Terrified to losing the feeling of being alive and in control for that brief moment in time. The two weeks. Lucas. "I need some time to think."

His eyes conveyed an unmistakable sense of disbelief. "Okay. If that's what you fucking want Brooke. I mean I can't give you the world, but at least I can give you this right?" Lucas held the door for her, motioning the exit with his other hand. "I bet this was a real learning experience for you. Being able to slum it with me for a while before you went running back to the arms of your comfortable life. And stupid me for ever believing that a kid like me could land someone like you."

She tried her best to assure herself that his words were coming from a place of anger, that he meant none of it, but it hurt all the same.

* * *

><p>"Boss, I got something for you," the young man managed to cough out as he tried to catch his breath. He ran from Ludlow as fast as he could.<p>

Kelly looked at him expectantly. "Well, what is it kid?"

"That Davis girl that Baker wanted us to follow. She was at O'Halloran's tonight with some guy. I followed them back to his apartment, but you're not going to believe this. Nathan knew all along that she was going out with his brother. Didn't breathe a single word of it to us this entire time."

"Lucas Scott. Son of a bitch," he said amusedly to himself. "Alright, get the fuck out of my office. Good work kid." He couldn't stop laughing if he tried. The same Scott brother who protested profusely because he was playing it safe turned out to live most dangerously of them all. Courting death by her welcoming thighs. Kelly knew he saw something in the kid.

Julian barged into office without invitation. "Do you have any news about my girlfriend? You do know that I still pay you for your services. Services which I expect to deliver something that is for once useful to me."

"Fuck you too Baker. If you don't like the way I run things, you can take your money elsewhere. Don't come in here barking like a bitch in heat and expect me to suck your prick like those whores you pay. Now sit the fuck down and listen to what I have to say for once."

The banker glared at Kelly, but sat down all the same.

"Lucas Scott. He lives in Ludlow and he's been pretty chummy with your girl. They're not stupid enough to display their affection for each other, but we both know that they're not exactly braiding each other's hair behind closed doors. What do you want me to do about it?"

He was surprisingly calm given the information he just received. There were obvious feelings of betrayal. Yes, he understood the hypocrisy in that. After all, he had enjoyed his fair share of high class call girls in times of loneliness. The thing was that he never felt anything for them and he knew that Brooke wasn't showing up to Ludlow on a regular basis for a fling. She used to love him wholly; he had a control over her that made him feel like he was on top of the world. It wasn't about that though. He loved knowing she was his, but when it came down to the wire, he was hopelessly hers. That girl would be his undoing and he was oddly fine with it. He could forgive her for this because he couldn't bear the thought of being with anyone else except her. There are many things that make the world go around. Different strokes for different folks. She was it for him.

"I want to break every fucking bone in that kid's body."

Kelly chuckled. "You know, normally I would agree, but he did you the greatest wrong a man could do. Physical harm is temporary. Take away his vitality. Make it impossible for him to live. Blackball this kid so he has no one to turn to. Dig his grave for him. You are the most powerful man in the world. I'm sure you could pull a couple of strings... And if you still want to give him a beating as fair warning, meet my men at the docks tomorrow. A man named Elsner runs the joint. You can find a way to get Scott fired."

* * *

><p>"Good evening Mr. Baker," greeted the house servant.<p>

He gave her a smile that never quite reached the corner of his eyes. "Good evening. Is Ms. Davis in?"

"Yes sir. She's in her room. Returned a few hours ago. Would you like me to call for her, Mr. Baker?"

He sighed before tipping his hat at her. "No. Thank you. I'll be just a moment." The banker made his way up the grand staircase and walked to the room he'd been in so many times before. He found her sitting by candlelight in a chair by her bed. She was staring aimlessly at the wall. "Hey."

She turned to look at him, exhaling audibly. He saw the tiredness in her smile. Damn that smile. "Hey." She took his hand in hers and pressed her lips against them.

He had thought about his words on the car ride over. About how he was going to approach the subject. "We need to talk."

After the night she had, the last thing she wanted to do was talk. Talking was all she seemed to be doing lately and every talk brought with it one piece of bad news after the next. It was taking every ounce of self-control not to break down. She barely had enough energy to do anything when she returned to the Davis mansion. "Okay. Let's talk."

"You're the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. I know I haven't been the easiest man to be around, sometimes not around enough. I've been hearing things from people and I don't want to believe them. Not if the words didn't come from your mouth. I want you to know that I'm not mad and even if it were true, I still wouldn't be mad. All I want is the honest truth."

That's it. He found out. Despite their painstaking efforts to avoid getting caught, Julian found out about their affair. She looked up at the ceiling, an empty attempt at appealing to a higher power, a God. "Julian..."

"Lucas Scott right?" he offered, knowing exactly what her lack of a response meant. The look in his eyes was the same one she had seen in Lucas'. She had no idea how to make things right for either of the men she loved. And as God knew it, she had never wished as hard as now for the answers she didn't have. "I forgive you. Everything is telling me that what I'm doing is beyond reason, but I need you Brooke. I need you to know that I love you. Just promise me that nothing like this will happen again and I promise you that you will now and forever hold my heart. You're my everything, I just want you to know that."

If only things with Lucas weren't so uncertain. If only she didn't love two men differently, but equally. She blinked back tears, feeling helpless. In another world where she had no shred of doubt about the makings of life. "I promise you Julian."

* * *

><p><strong>I said something major was going to happen and here it is. Happy with it? Review and let me know. Ready to throw something out the window out of anger and frustration? Perfect, channel that anger into a review. Until next time.<strong>


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